He approached me slowly, kneeling at my feet with palpable remorse. “I’m sorry, Lisa. I’m so sorry.” His voice trembled as he continued, “I... I swear, it only happened this once. I never expected it…"
“Which time?” I asked, my tone steady.
“On our anniversary, I drank too much. I was just so happy, so incredibly happy that we’ve been together for ten years.” He lowered his head, hurriedly defending himself. “I mistook her for you. I truly regret it! I was just too scared to tell you, afraid you’d be angry.”
“It’s okay. I’ve done worse things than this,” I replied, my heart heavy with the weight of our shared history.
Oliver’s eyes widened in shock. “What?”
I shook my head, forcing a sincere smile despite the ache in my chest. “I stayed home and chose to trust you.”
In that moment, the gravity of my own words struck me like a painful reminder of the loyalty I had shown him. Trust, once broken, becomes fragile, and I fought to cling to its remnants as I searched his pleading gaze for a glimmer of the man I once loved—the man I believed he could still be.
