Even so, I barely slept that night. My mind wouldn't stop. Every second from that incident played on loop behind my closed eyes—vivid, merciless, unrelenting.
At dawn, before my parents had woken up, I went out for a jog to clear my head. When I returned and finished a light breakfast with them, I excused myself and went back to my room, intending to get a few more hours of sleep.
I had just drifted off when someone shook me awake.
"Maya, is this what you meant by going out to cool off? Eight men in one night—damn it! You fucking slut!"
That voice. That tone. My eyes snapped open. Hearing those exact words again, spoken in the same raw fury, felt like crashing into a wall.
"Wha... what do you mean?" I managed to say. My voice trembled without my realizing it.
Sean stood at the foot of my bed, his face contorted with rage. This wasn't the gentle, patient man I had married. This was a storm—cold and merciless.
"You're seriously asking me what I mean? Look at this!" he shouted, his voice shaking. He threw his phone onto the bed. "Your video is all over the internet—I can't even show my face to anyone now!"
I reached for the phone with shaking fingers. The screen lit up.