I said nothing. I just stood there, my chest heaving, waiting for him to leave. And he did. With one last furious glance, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him so hard that the walls shook.
The sound echoed through the empty house, leaving me alone in the deafening quiet. I sank to the floor, my hands shaking as I pulled my knees to my chest.
Half an hour later, my phone buzzed again. I glanced at the screen and saw Mark’s latest social media post. He had uploaded a picture of himself paragliding, the wind in his hair, a carefree smile on his face. The caption read:
“Grateful to have paragliding when I’m feeling down.”
I stared at the screen, feeling my heart shatter all over again. The comments were flooding in, but the one that caught my eye was from Kath.
“Don’t worry, Mark. You’ll always have me. Paragliding heals the soul.”
The words burned in my chest like acid. I threw the phone across the room, my breath coming in ragged gasps. They had everything in common. Shared hobbies, shared passions, even a connection I could no longer deny. And what did Mark and I have now? Only the bitter remains of a broken home.