Just a brief glance in my direction before continuing like I wasn’t even there.
Like I didn’t matter at all.
My nails dug into my palms as I forced myself to breathe.
Then I spoke—calm, controlled, and completely done.
“We’re getting a divorce,” I said evenly. “I’m finished. With you. With this marriage. With every lie you’ve ever told me.”
“Let’s end this marriage. I want a divorce,” I said, my tone steady, almost frighteningly calm. “I’m finished with your lies, your betrayal… everything you’ve put me through.”
He let out a laugh—low, empty, without warmth. “Divorce?” he repeated as if I’d said something ridiculous. “That’s never happening. I’m not letting you go, Aria. I’ll make sure you suffer instead. Just watch.”
Then, as if I were already irrelevant, he turned back to the woman beside him, his hand sliding over her like I wasn’t even there. “I’ll be with someone else then,” he added loudly, deliberately, making sure every word cut through me.
My stomach twisted. “So this is it?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady. “You’re destroying our marriage over a business deal you lost? This is your revenge?”
His eyes snapped to mine—cold, sharp, unfeeling. “No,” he said flatly. “This is because you’ve been unfaithful.” His voice dropped lower, edged with something dangerous. “And if I ever find the man who took you that night… I’ll make sure he disappears.”
And just like that, he went back to her as if nothing important had been said.
I stood there, stunned, watching him act like I was nothing more than background noise. And that night didn’t end there.
It became a pattern.
New women every night. Different faces, different laughter, different perfume lingering through the hallways like a mark he wanted me to see. He didn’t even try to hide it. It was deliberate—doors left slightly open, voices echoing just loud enough for me to hear.
One evening, while I was folding laundry on the bed, he casually tossed a small box toward me.
It slid across the sheets. Condoms.
“Get a bigger pack next time,” he said without even looking up. “And don’t forget extras. These things don’t last long.”
I stared at him, disbelief turning into anger, then picked it up and threw it straight back. It hit his chest.
“Grow up,” I said sharply.