With determination, I tossed the gifts at them, saying, “Perfect. Here’s wishing you two a lifetime together.”
——
Caesar stepped protectively in front of her, the luxury bags and clothes spilling across the floor.
His eyes darkened with anger, and he glared, gritting his teeth. “Still playing hard-to-get? Don’t think I’m falling for it this time!”
He stomped over the gifts without a second thought, as if he were grinding my love for him into dust beneath his feet.
Even the report I had poured my heart into was torn to shreds without a hint of regret. My heart twisted in pain, but I fought back the tears, turning away to project an air of strength.
When I got home, I began packing, realizing that most of my belongings were nothing more than kitchen utensils.
For eight years, I had morphed from a culinary beginner into a dedicated caregiver, all to ensure Caesar’s happiness.
As I rifled through a collection of worn-out clothes, it dawned on me that I had forsaken my own life in those years; every ounce of energy had been devoted to him while my dreams faded like the fabric before me.