My heart felt like it was filled with lead. Every time my mind drifted to Matthew, a sharp, physical pain pierced my chest.
The automated system called my number three times before I snapped out of it, hastily wiping the moisture from my eyes.
The doctor dressed the burn and prescribed anti-inflammatories.
Just as I finished paying, my phone buzzed. The special ringtone I'd assigned to Matthew.
My heart skipped—a traitorous reflex. I answered the video call quickly, knowing his patience ran thin.
"What?"
On the screen, his face was flushed. His eyes, glassy. Drunk.
"I'm not coming back tonight." His words slurred slightly. "Don't wait up."
The background was chaotic. Thumping bass. Flashing lights. A high-end club.
In five years together, he never told me who he was with or where he went. If I asked, he threatened to break up. I had always walked on eggshells, terrified of losing him.
But today, something in me snapped.
"Where are you right now?" I demanded, enunciating every word.
His brow furrowed. He clicked his tongue. "Don't ask so many questions."
From off-screen, a chorus of male voices jeered.
"Yo, is the sister-in-law checking in?"
"Matthew, you've been hiding her for ages. When do we get to meet her?"
"Yeah, Matt, stop holding out on us."
Then—a hush.
"Shh, shut up. Julia is right here."
My blood froze.
On the screen, Matthew glanced nervously to his side. He lowered the phone, turning away from the camera, but the microphone caught every word.
He leaned toward someone—toward *her*—his voice dropping to a soothing murmur.
"Ignore them. They're talking nonsense. It's just the housekeeper calling about chores."
*The housekeeper.*
He pulled back. Realized the call was still connected.
Hung up.
A moment later, a message popped up.
*Friends just joking around. Don't overthink it.*
Then another.
*Stop asking so many questions when I'm out. It's annoying.*
*Annoying.*
Bitterness coated my tongue like bile, but a laugh bubbled up anyway. Cold. Hollow.
Five years. I ask where he is *twice*, and I'm "annoying."
I finally understood. His secrecy. His lack of consideration. His refusal to acknowledge me. It wasn't just his personality.
He simply didn't love me.
Now that Julia was back, I was nothing more than trash to be discarded.
*Fine.* It took five years, but I finally saw him clearly.
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