A moment later, my phone buzzed.
I picked it up and saw his text:
*“There’s an issue with a big contract at work. I’ve been tied up all night and probably won’t be home until late.
Take care of yourself and make sure you eat. Love you, babe.“*
That nauseating feeling surged up again, and no matter how hard I tried to suppress it, I couldn’t stop myself from throwing up.
This man… he was disgusting. So disgusting.
After Evan drove off, Sofia hummed a cheerful tune as she walked upstairs.
I stayed in the car for a while, trying to steady myself. My face was pale, but I forced some color back with a swipe of lipstick before stepping
out.
I walked up to the door and knocked.
Sofia answered with a smile, muttering playfully, “What, did you forget something agai-” Her words trailed off the moment she saw me.
Her smile didn’t falter, though. In fact, it widened, filled with mockery and malice. She looked me up and down, completely unbothered, and
said in a sweet yet venomous tone:
“Well, well, it’s you. I guess you found your way here. Why don’t you come in and take a look around?”
She stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter, as if she were the rightful lady of the house.
That smug, self–assured look on her face–it was as if I were the other woman here, nothing more than an unwelcome intruder.
My chest tightened, my breathing grew uneven, but my heart… it felt dead. Hollow.
I walked inside, numb, stepping into what I once believed was the happiest place in the world for Evan and me.
And yet, everywhere I looked, there were reminders of them.
Matching slippers by the door. Coordinated pajamas draped over the bedroom chair. A pair of toothbrushes on the bathroom counter, arranged in a way that formed a heart.
It was all so domestic. So intimate.
Sofia didn’t bother following me. She didn’t need to. She stayed by the fresh bouquet of flowers Evan had given her, lazily arranging them as she sneered over her shoulder.
“Why put yourself through this?” she said, her voice dripping with contempt. “The moment you decided to forgive him, you should’ve known. To Evan, you’re just a woman with no boundaries.
“In his mind, as long as he doesn’t divorce you, you’ll keep forgiving him. You’ll keep tolerating him.
“Go ahead, confront him. He’ll just apologize, spin some pretty lie, and make you believe he’s sorry. And you? You’ll forgive him again. Because you don’t have a choice.
“I mean, look at you. At your age, where else are you going to find a husband as rich as him?
“You think you’re better than me, but the truth is, we’re the same.”
The same? Her words felt like poison in my veins. I wanted to scream, I wanted to rip that smug expression off her face.
I thought about Evan and me, about everything we’d been through. We met when we were young–too young. For him, I sacrificed my career, worked endless hours, and supported him while he built his business from nothing. Sure, he made it big, but he couldn’t have done it without me.
And this woman… she had the audacity to claim we were the same?
2:28 PM
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But the confidence in her voice–it was unshakable. And deep down, I knew why.
She believed it because Evan had told her so.
In that moment, something in me clicked. I realized I’d been wrong all along.
I forgave him because I loved him. Because I thought he loved me, to
But to him, my forgiveness wasn’t about love. It was about convenience.
This man, this relationship we’d built over more than a decade–it had all rotted into
to something vile and toxic.
Without another word, I walked past Sofia, ignoring the venom in her gaze, and entered the living room.
That’s when I saw it.
Hanging on the wall was a massive photo. A wedding portrait.
In the picture, Sofia wore a diamond–studded wedding gown, her hand resting delicately on Evan’s chest as he held her close. The two of them stood against the backdrop of Santorini’s iconic blue and white cliffs.
The image practically screamed luxury and extravagance.
I thought I was numb, thought I couldn’t feel anything anymore. But the sight of that photo hit me like a dagger to the chest.
Once, that wall had held our wedding photo.
Ours was nothing like this one. We couldn’t afford anything extravagant back then. We didn’t even hire a photographer.
Our photo had been taken on a beach, using a cheap tripod and a timer. I wore a simple white dress and a borrowed veil.
It wasn’t fancy, but it was ours. It was real.
Now, it was gone. Replaced by this.
I forced myself to stay calm. My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of the portrait.
For the first time in a long time, my mind felt clear.
Rotten things belonged in the trash.
Evan and Sofia had been living together long enough to establish what was essentially a common–law marriage. I had all the evidence I needed.
I’d take this to a lawyer. Make sure neither of them got away with anything.
Sofia noticed me taking the photo. Her smugness cracked for a moment, replaced by panic. She lunged forward, one hand protectively cradling her belly, the other reaching for my phone.
I stepped aside, but as I moved, she shoved me hard, sending me crashing into the coffee table.
Pain exploded through my body as I hit the corner of the table. Almost immediately, I felt a warm, wet sensation between my legs. Blood.
Sofia’s expression shifted, her eyes flashing with something dark and twisted.
I collapsed to the floor, clutching my stomach as waves of pain radiated through me. My hand fumbled for my phone, desperate to call for help.
Even if Evan didn’t want this baby, it was still mine, I couldn’t lose it. I wouldn’t.
Sofia laughed cruelly, her voice filled with malice. As I reached for my phone, she stomped on my hand, grinding her heel into my fingers.
The pain was excruciating. I screamed, tears streaming down my face.
2:29 PM
