The doctor dressed the burn and prescribed anti-inflammatories.
Just as I finished paying, my phone buzzed. The special ringtone I'd assigned to Matthew.
My heart skipped—a traitorous reflex. I answered the video call quickly, knowing his patience ran thin.
"What?"
On the screen, his face was flushed. His eyes, glassy. Drunk.
"I'm not coming back tonight." His words slurred slightly. "Don't wait up."
The background was chaotic. Thumping bass. Flashing lights. A high-end club.
In five years together, he never told me who he was with or where he went. If I asked, he threatened to break up. I had always walked on eggshells, terrified of losing him.
But today, something in me snapped.
"Where are you right now?" I demanded, enunciating every word.
His brow furrowed. He clicked his tongue. "Don't ask so many questions."
From off-screen, a chorus of male voices jeered.
"Yo, is the sister-in-law checking in?"
"Matthew, you've been hiding her for ages. When do we get to meet her?"
"Yeah, Matt, stop holding out on us."
Then—a hush.
"Shh, shut up. Julia is right here."
My blood froze.
On the screen, Matthew glanced nervously to his side. He lowered the phone, turning away from the camera, but the microphone caught every word.
He leaned toward someone—toward *her*—his voice dropping to a soothing murmur.
"Ignore them. They're talking nonsense. It's just the housekeeper calling about chores."
*The housekeeper.*
He pulled back. Realized the call was still connected.
Hung up.
A moment later, a message popped up.
*Friends just joking around. Don't overthink it.*
Then another.
*Stop asking so many questions when I'm out. It's annoying.*
*Annoying.*
Bitterness coated my tongue like bile, but a laugh bubbled up anyway. Cold. Hollow.
Five years. I ask where he is *twice*, and I'm "annoying."
I finally understood. His secrecy. His lack of consideration. His refusal to acknowledge me. It wasn't just his personality.
He simply didn't love me.
Now that Julia was back, I was nothing more than trash to be discarded.
*Fine.* It took five years, but I finally saw him clearly.
---
When I returned to the office, the application form on Daniel Swanson's desk hadn't moved. The HR rep told me Daniel was out for two days attending a wedding.
I snapped a photo of the form and texted it to him.
Half an hour later, my phone rang.
"Audrey, fill out the digital version and email it to me."
"I sent it this morning, Mr. Swanson."
"Oh, right." He sounded distracted. "Haven't checked my inbox. It's been chaos. Mr. James invited me to an engagement banquet last minute. Completely forgot about work."
*Mr. James... engagement banquet?*
The phone slipped in my sweaty palm. A terrible suspicion took root.
Does he really plan to hide the *entire engagement* from me?
I didn't dare ask Daniel for details. I was afraid the truth would kill the last shred of me still holding on.
"Enjoy the party, sir," I managed to choke out.
I left work and went back to Matthew's villa. Dark. Cold. Empty.
Without him, it wasn't a home. Just a house.
Mechanically, I opened social media. Scrolled mindlessly until my thumb stopped.
Daniel Swanson had posted a video.
*Congratulations to the happy couple.*
In the video, amidst cheering crowds and swelling music, a perfect pair stood center stage. The talented heir and the beautiful heiress.
They exchanged rings.
They kissed deeply—the kind of kiss that promised forever.
When they pulled apart, they gazed at each other with a tenderness Matthew had never, *not once*, shown me.
It was Matthew and Julia.
He wasn't at a club.
He was at his own engagement party.
The video playing on the screen was intimate, warm, and suffocating.
