Hector had always insisted on saving their first time for after marriage. Laura, once deeply moved by this, had believed it to be a sign of his respect and care for her.
"You're too precious to rush things," he'd often say, his gaze steady and sincere, cradling her hands as though she were something fragile and sacred.
Even after their engagement, whenever she tried to express her affection more intimately, he would gently turn her down. His touch was always warm but firm as he held her at bay. Laura had thought his restraint stemmed from a selfless desire to protect her purity.
Only now, after discovering the truth, did she realize the irony of it all—Hector's abstinence with her wasn't an act of devotion. He had already indulged himself elsewhere, his needs satisfied long before she'd even tried to cross that line.
***
The next morning, the campsite was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird. Laura moved briskly inside the tent, hurriedly folding clothes and shoving them into her bag. Her hands trembled slightly, but she forced herself to focus.
Olivia's audacity the night before had been the final straw. If the New Year's Eve party Hector had meticulously planned had evoked even the slightest hesitation about leaving, Olivia's boldness had crushed it entirely.
Laura's chest tightened as she zipped her bag shut. Turning off her phone, she slung the strap of her travel bag over her shoulder, stepped out of the tent, and headed for her car.
The drive home felt interminable. Every mile on the empty road was filled with memories of past New Year's Eves—when Hector had held her close after the fireworks, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered promises.
"We've grown another year older. Soon, you'll be my wife," he'd say, his voice rich with hope and love.
But those words, once a balm to her heart, now rang hollow. This year, Laura had indeed grown older overnight—but not because of love. It was betrayal that had forced her to mature.
***
The following afternoon, Laura sat at her kitchen table, sipping tea and staring at her untouched laptop screen. She had barely begun sorting through her emotions when the sound of hurried footsteps on the porch pulled her from her thoughts.
The door swung open to reveal Hector, his hair disheveled and face filled with worry.
"Laura, why did you leave without saying anything?" His voice carried a note of desperation. "I spent the whole morning looking for you. I was so worried."
Laura set her mug down with a deliberate calmness, her expression unreadable. "Really?" she said, her tone razor-sharp. "Were you truly worried about me? I left early in the morning. Why weren't you beside me? Did you lose your way going to the restroom, or were you... sharing the night with someone else?"
Hector's jaw tightened for a fraction of a second before he quickly composed himself. His features softened into a look of contrition. "I stayed up all night playing games with the guys after dinner," he said, his voice low and apologetic. "I didn't want to disturb your sleep."
Laura laughed, the sound bitter and hollow. "Games?" she echoed, shaking her head. "That's what you're going with?"
The man who stood before her now, trying to spin flimsy lies, was a far cry from the Hector she'd once known. He used to worry if she was afraid of the dark, staying by her side through the night and vowing to always be her guiding star.
But those promises had crumbled, and so had the man she thought she loved. His insistence on marrying her felt less like devotion and more like a duty he was fulfilling out of habit or convenience.
Hector opened his mouth to say something, but his phone buzzed. Glancing at the screen, his expression darkened briefly before he adjusted his glasses. Laura caught sight of the notification—a message from a contact with a reindeer avatar.
[Santa, I'm so sorry! Don't put me on the naughty list! This little reindeer just couldn't wait until New Year's to see you. I swear, I'll be on my best behavior from now on, she won't see a single antler!]
[If you don't believe me, you're welcome to check. I promise, no long nose here. I have a tail instead...]
The accompanying emojis were nauseatingly playful—hearts, a winking face, and a suggestive peach fruit icon.
Hector cleared his throat, his voice suddenly clipped. "I have an urgent matter at the company. My father needs me back immediately," he said, avoiding her gaze as he turned toward the door.
Laura didn't stop him. She knew better than to press for the truth.
***
That evening, Laura sat in the quiet villa, the only sound the rhythmic tapping of her fingers on the keyboard. Her revised thesis, a project she'd poured her heart into, was finally ready for submission. She clicked "Send" and leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly.
But the emptiness lingered. Hector hadn't returned.
The silence was both a curse and a blessing—it gave her the clarity she needed to act. Quietly, Laura began packing her belongings, each action deliberate and final.
She sold the luxury items Hector had given her—handbags, jewelry, even the designer heels she'd worn to their engagement party. She threw away the things she couldn't sell or carry, discarding memories she no longer wanted.
Her wardrobe, consisting mostly of oversized hoodies and practical jeans, fit easily into a single suitcase. Her skincare routine, as unpretentious as her lifestyle, was reduced to a small pouch of essentials.
When everything was done, she sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the neatly packed suitcase. This was her life now—compact, uncomplicated, and free of the burdens Hector had imposed.
Laura ran her fingers over the suitcase handle, her heart a mix of resolve and sorrow. She wasn't running away; she was taking back control.
The love she once shared with Hector was gone, and with it, any reason to stay.
