She asked quietly,
“And what about us?”

His answer came without hesitation:
“Nothing changes.”

Us.
They had an us.

I felt a scream rising in my throat, but shock held me still.

Then I heard the mattress dip—Daniel had sat on the bed. His shadow loomed above me.

And then he spoke the line that turned my heartbreak into fire:

“I just need one more night of pretending.”

One more night.
Our wedding night.

That was the moment something inside me hardened. I wasn’t going to sob under a bed while my life was being carved up above me. I would listen. Observe. And then strike.

The room went quiet. My eyes burned, my body shook, but my mind sharpened. Storming out wouldn’t save me—I needed to know everything.

Marina—the woman, as I later discovered—stood abruptly.
“I should go. I can’t be here when she arrives.”