The atmosphere was that of newlyweds toasting at their wedding.
I sat among the crowd, invisible—like a voyeur at my own betrayal.
Tears splashed into the wine glass in front of me. I wiped them away in secret, forcing myself to accept what I was seeing.
When I lifted my gaze, my eyes locked with a man sitting in the far corner.
I shook my head with a bitter smile. The ache in my chest spread, slow and relentless.
My sinuses burned until I couldn't breathe. I stumbled out of my chair and half-ran to the restroom.
The woman staring back at me in the mirror was haggard, hollowed out, barely recognizable. In that moment, everything I'd been holding together shattered.
Ten years—reduced to the cruelest joke.
I don't know how long I stayed in there. Eventually, I pulled myself together and headed for the door.
But the voices outside stopped me cold.
"Didn't you say you'd file for divorce after she had the baby? Why are you still dragging your feet?"
"Is it because she had a boy? Is that why you don't want to leave anymore?"
Derek let out a long sigh. "She hasn't even finished her postpartum recovery yet. I'm not about to file now and have everyone pointing fingers at me."