I couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened—when he'd stopped loving me.
Seven years of my life, and he'd treated every last one of them like garbage.
"Oh my God, I thought she was the wife. Turns out she's the mistress."
"A mistress acting that entitled? Shameless."
The crowd's whispers fueled Leo's confidence.
My reaction was strangely calm.
In Leo's eyes, that could only mean one thing—I was too afraid to leave him.
"Rose, I don't want to make this uglier than it has to be. Adela can't handle any more stress right now. Just go."
I turned and left.
I didn't pack a bag. There was nothing worth taking.
On the third night, the front door swung open.
The first thing Leo did when he walked in was check whether I'd packed.
When he saw my clothes still hanging in their usual place, the tension left his shoulders.
He'd always remembered what I told him when I was sixteen—that I'd never leave him. So once again, he was certain I wouldn't go.
"Rose, you should understand where I'm coming from. You can't get pregnant, so I had to find another way. Besides, my child would be your child too, wouldn't it?"