“And I am?” My voice trembled, thick with the sting of betrayal.
Seven years. Seven years I had stood by him, through triumphs, crises, and private moments meant for no one else. And yet, in the presence of Marina’s tears, all those years vanished. One word from her outweighed everything we had built together.
Realizing there was no point in arguing further, I turned on my heel. “Believe whatever you want,” I muttered hollowly.
Caleb’s angry voice followed me down the corridor, commanding me to stay. But I didn’t look back. The sting of his slap still burned on my cheek—a cruel reminder of my position in his world.
Returning to the dining room was out of the question. I refused to ruin the evening for my colleagues, who had been nothing but kind to me. Instead, I walked to the front desk, settled the bill, and sent a quick message:
"Something urgent came up. Enjoy the meal and drinks—it’s on me."
With that, I left, each step heavy with the weight of the night pressing down on my shoulders, my heart a bitter mix of exhaustion and quiet fury.