That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Suddenly, my phone screen lit up with a notification—Anne had posted a new update on her social media.
[Got scratched by a crazy cat, but thankfully, someone was there to take care of me.]
The post included a blurry photo of a man’s silhouette, but that familiar figure—who else could it be but William?
The comment section was flooded with congratulatory messages like [Wishing you two eternal happiness!] The sight of it all made my stomach churn.
I couldn’t bear it any longer. Glancing at the calendar, I realized it was only the seventh day of the New Year. Without a second thought, I booked a flight back to the capital city—the place where William and I had bought an apartment together.
I needed to pack my things and put an end to this relationship once and for all.
When he came home and realized I was gone, his calls started pouring in. “Claire, where are you? The engagement’s in ten days!”
Hearing his voice filled me with nothing but bitterness and anger. I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.
“William, you’ve let me down in ways I never thought possible.”
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “Do you remember what I once told you? If you ever betrayed me, you’d never see me or have any connection to me again. Not in this lifetime.”
With that, I hung up without hesitation.
I then gathered all our photos, the ones I had once cherished as precious memories. Each snapshot now felt like a needle stabbing into my heart.
I found the love letters he had written me, each one brimming with sweet promises. I also pulled out the scrapbook I had painstakingly crafted, a journal of our relationship that documented every little moment we had shared.
Once symbols of love, these keepsakes now only served as painful reminders of the betrayal that had shattered everything.
I carried everything into the yard and watched as the flames slowly consumed them. The fire crackled and burned, but inside me, emotions swirled—anger, heartbreak and a bitter sense of closure.
Next, I gathered every single thing he had ever given me and tossed them into the trash without a second thought.
I couldn’t help but think back to the early days, when he was trying so hard to win me over. Every day, he’d send me a love letter through my roommate and soon enough, my desk drawer was overflowing with them.
Eventually, I gathered them all into a box, handling each one carefully, as if they were priceless treasures. To me, they were the embodiment of our love—a testament to a bond I thought would last forever.
Now, as I looked at them, they weren’t symbols of love at all. They were just reminders of how naïve I’d been.
As I continued packing, I came across something unexpected in the drawer of his nightstand—a bag.
Curiosity and unease churned in my stomach as I opened it. Inside, I found a pile of train tickets and plane tickets. One by one, I flipped through them, noticing most were for trips to Chafbury.
My heart sank further as I reached the bottom of the bag. There, I found photos—photos of him and Anne together. Some were ordinary couple pictures, but others were intimate, inappropriate and disgusting.
The dates on the photos matched the travel dates on the tickets.
Chafbury—the city where Anne worked.
All those “business trips” he’d claimed to take? They were nothing but excuses to meet Anne and carry on their affair.
My hands trembled as I held the damning evidence. The betrayal I had tried so hard to deny was staring me in the face, undeniable and cruel.
