“Of course, Percy,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.
On the other end of the line, his voice was smooth and composed. “But I can’t pick you up. Come with the driver, okay? I’ve sent the address to him.”
“Okay,” I replied curtly, unwilling to draw out the conversation.
“I can’t wait to see how beautiful you are tonight. Love you,” he added casually, the words slipping from his mouth like a rehearsed script.
I did not bother responding to his declaration. Since when had it mattered anymore?
I hung up the phone without another word.
I stood in front of the mirror, debating whether I should even bother getting dressed up. No matter what I wore, Percy’s reaction was always the same.
“Oh my God, you are so beautiful,” he would say, his expression flat and emotionless, like a mannequin reciting a programmed line.
The memory made me laugh bitterly. The kind of laugh born out of desperation, where the only other option was tears.
In the end, I chose something simple, nothing too extravagant. Tonight was not worth the effort.
When I arrived at the venue, the waiter greeted me with a polite smile. “Let me escort you to your room, Mrs. Klein.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly, following him through the opulent corridors.
As the door to the private room opened, I froze in my tracks. My heart sank as I took in the scene before me.
The room was decorated beautifully, with candles and roses adorning every corner, but what stood out most was the crowd of Percy’s friends gathered inside.
Their voices rang out in unison, “Happy Anniversary, Percy and Isla!”
The cheer felt hollow, a cruel mockery of the intimacy I had hoped for.
My chest tightened as a sad thought crossed my mind, ‘So, we don’t even get to spend our anniversary dinner alone?’
Percy approached me, his smile radiant, as if he expected me to fall to pieces with gratitude. “You’ve finally come,” he said. “How about the surprise? Do you like it?”
I glanced around the room. Most of the faces were familiar, but the smiles they gave me were either polite or downright fake. The pretense was suffocating.
“Yeah,” I answered simply, my voice void of enthusiasm.
“Come on, let’s sit,” he said, pulling me gently toward the long table. “We were just discussing what games to play to liven up the anniversary celebration.”
“Ah, I see,” I replied with a short nod, taking the seat to Percy’s left.
As I settled in, I noticed the empty chair on his right, as if it were deliberately left vacant for someone else. My eyes lingered on it, unable to shake the unease creeping up my spine.
Before I could dwell on it any longer, Percy pulled out another small box and placed it in front of me.
“I have another gift for you,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “I’m sure you’ll love it.”
I opened the box to find a stunning blue dress inside. It was flawless, its fabric shimmering under the soft light, a creation no doubt made by the Klein family’s exclusive designer.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice calm. I placed the lid back on the box and added with a faint smile, “I have a gift for you too. Make sure to read it.”
Percy chuckled, taking a sip of his wine. “This year’s love letter, isn’t it? They’ve always been the best gifts you’ve ever given me since you started writing them fifteen years ago.”
His expression softened with nostalgia. “Seventeen years we have known each other and I’ve loved you since you were seven. Wow! I never imagined we’d end up married. I’m so lucky to have you.”
His words triggered a chorus of teasing from his friends.
“Look at him, so lovestruck!”
“Ah, newlyweds are always like this!”
“Wait, they’re not newlyweds anymore, are they?”
“Where can I find a husband this romantic?”
I smiled politely, nodding along to the chatter. Percy beamed at me, clearly enjoying the spotlight, completely unaware of the truth that lay beneath my silence.
He wouldn’t read the letter. He never did.
For the past fifteen years, I had written him a love letter every year, just as he claimed he treasured them.
The tradition began when I was seven, writing him letters in response to his confessions of love. Back then, I thought they meant something to him.
But that morning, I stumbled upon the truth.
While searching through Percy’s study drawer for evidence of his affair with Selene, I found something else, my letters.
Five of them had been opened and read—those from when I was seven to twelve years old. The rest were untouched, their seals perfectly intact.
He had kept them, sure. Perhaps to show off the stack if I ever asked whether he still had them. But he had never bothered to read them. Not once.
I stared at the stack of letters, my heart twisting in disbelief. The realization was a crushing blow, heavier than the weight of his betrayal with Selene.
At that moment, a thought settled firmly in my mind. Those letters deserved the same fate as my feelings—a quiet, decisive end.
The celebration continued around me, Percy laughing with his friends, raising toasts, and playing the role of a devoted husband. I sat silently at his side, my smile never faltering.
But my heart sank as the door to the private room opened once more, and an all-too-familiar voice cut through the chatter.
“I’m sorry, I’m late,” Selene said, her tone light and unapologetic.
The energy in the room shifted instantly. The indifferent, almost forced smiles Percy’s friends had given me earlier were replaced with genuine delight.
“Oh, Selene, come in and sit!”
“Yeah, you’re not that late. We were just about to start the game.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I was already getting ready, but my boyfriend just made my makeup mess up again,” she said.
“Hahaha, your boyfriend must be really crazy about you.”
“Look, he even left marks on your neck and chest.”
Selene proudly replied, “Right, he wouldn’t let go of me for a minute.”
Then she sat comfortably on Percy’s right side, which hit me like a punch to the stomach.
I glanced at Percy, expecting shock or at least discomfort, but his expression was unreadable.
“I need to freshen up,” I lied, forcing a smile to mask the storm brewing inside me.
Percy looked at me curiously, but he did not protest. “Alright, don’t be too long.”
I turned and left the room, closing the door behind me.
The moment it clicked shut, the suffocating facade I had maintained cracked, and my rage erupted in my chest.
My hands trembled as I stormed down the hallway, my mind spiraling with fury.
How dare he?
How dare Selene?
How dare his friends, who clearly knew everything, treat me like an outsider in my own marriage?
Their smiles and greetings had been fake, and then, their warmth for Selene betrayed where their loyalties truly lay.
The bathroom was mercifully empty. I locked myself in a stall, pressing my back against the cold door as tears streamed down my face.
For months, I had endured the humiliation. I had stayed silent, convincing myself that I could salvage the remains of what Percy and I had.
But that? That was unbearable.
I wiped my tears hastily and washed my face. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I saw the determination harden in my eyes.
That would be the last time. I would not endure another moment of the suffocating situation.
I would divorce Percy. I would leave. And I would save what little remained of my heart.
However, what shocked me more was, the time I was about to open the door of the private room, I heard someone ask, his deep tone cutting through the noise.
“How much longer are you going to keep Isla?”
