His Betrayal, Her Unveiling

t closed the biggest deal of my architectural career in Tokyo, and now, all I could think of was Liam. It was his birthday, and my early return was a sec

gers fumbled, I must be tired. I typed our anniversary code again, slowly, precisely. Beep. Red light. Denial. A cold un

tilted. A young woman, maybe early twenties, stood in my doorway, holding one of my own art books. "Who the hell are you?

vered my walls. My custom Italian leather sofa was replaced by a lumpy, glittery monstrosity. The air reeked of cheap perfume and burnt sugar. My home office was a makeup room. My blueprints

ng a torrent of horrifying possibilities. Then, her sleeve slid back, revealing a sleek, modern watch with a distinctive blue

s gone. In its place: Liam and Chloe kissing under the Eiffel Tower, on a boat, at a fa

e a real home." Each word was a deliberate blow, telling me I was inadequate, replaced. She picked up a framed photo of them. "Liam was so tired of everything being so perfect and professional. He needed someone to just... t