lia

age. The air still thrummed with the echoing crash of glass. Yet, despite the violence, my he

official-looking. Inside, I found the divorce papers I had signed, now ripped into tiny, indistinguishable fragments. My

ced. My body began to shake, not from fear, but from a profound disgust that settled

d with an unfamiliar number. A text message. My heart pounded,

most sweet how lost he is without

uel twist of the knife. I remembered her casual texts from years ago, always phrased to seem innocent, yet subtly hinting at her presence in Jacob's life.

jet trips, exclusive events-all with Jacob subtly in the background, or his hand conspicuously placed on her arm. She was flaunting their connection, rubbing

gh. This time, a voice note. My

. Don't be so upset about Aurelia. She was never really you. Just a... a convenie

p and weary, mumbled somet

my nerves. "See? He knows it's true. He

my eyes shut, wishing I could

eep, his face looking peaceful, unguarded. In the frame, his bare left hand was visible, stretched out on the p

e just meant to be. He finally took off the r

ing my mouth, and wretched violently into the toilet. The bile burned my throat, but it was nothing compared to the

ghost, a hollowed-out version of the woman I used to be. The woman who had loved

rried me because he loved me. He married me because I resembled Kaleigh, because I was strong enough to help him rebuild his empire, be

rriage, but for myself. For the fool I had been, for the decade I had sacrificed, for the innocent life I now carried, a life con

ear resolve settled in its place. My hand, s

. You can have Jacob. But you will

a decisive swipe, I blocked his number. Then Kaleigh' s. No more. No more poison. The silence that followed was

eed to move my belongings," I told them, my voice

study and practice. A small, framed photo of my mother, her kind eyes smiling at me. My sketchbooks, filled with designs that were uni

n me-they lay untouched. They were tokens of a life that was never truly mine,

o heavy on my finger for ten years, a constant reminder of a promise that was never kept. Now, it felt like a shackle. I picked it up, cold a

round the space. It had been Jacob's idea to move into this grand apartment after our wedding, a penthouse with panoramic city views. I had tried t

years of suffocation. The weight of Jacob' s presence, his expectations,

balcony overlooking a charming park. It wasn't opulent, but it was mine. It felt

park, designing small, freelance projects from my laptop, reading books to my g

sage from an unregistered number. My

ated. She loves that child. You can't just run away.

with an unsettling possessiveness over a child he saw as an extension of Kaleigh, not me.

e, this time, was absolute. A fragile shield, but a shield nonetheless. I would prote