A tiny, razor-sharp spark of genuine amusement ignited in my chest.
It wasn’t because the betrayal didn’t ache—it did, a dull, phantom pain. It was because the scattered, confusing puzzle pieces of the last six months suddenly snapped together to form a crystal-clear picture. The late nights he spent “auditing accounts at the office.” The sudden, defensive secrecy surrounding his phone. The new, heavy cedar cologne that masked the scent of another woman. The way Linda had abruptly stopped ending her phone calls to me with “love you, dear.”
They had planned this. They had calculated the exact extraction point.
I drew a slow, deliberate breath, tasting the absolute calm radiating from my core.
“Okay,” I said, allowing a genuine smile to touch my lips. “Then all of you should leave.”
