He leaned back, cupped my face, and kissed me gently. “Forget you? Candice, you’ll be the queen of my world. I’ll give you the life you deserve. No matter how high I go, it’ll always be because of you.”
I believed him. I believed every word.
And years later, he had built everything he promised. But not for me.
Never for me.
I swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll handle it on my own. Just prepare the papers and send them to Oliver in three days.”
The lawyer hesitated, then finally sighed. “If that’s your decision… I’ll have it ready.”
“Thank you.” My voice trembled but didn’t break. I hung up.
And when I turned around—Oliver was standing there.
His tall frame blocked the light from the hallway, his sharp eyes narrowing as though I had just confessed a crime. “What do you mean… send it? Send what?”
My heart nearly leapt out of my chest. For a split second, I thought it was over—that he had heard everything, that he would rip the phone from my hands and strangle the truth out of me.
But instead, I forced a smile. A brittle, fragile smile that barely held.
“Just… a gift,” I said softly. “In three days, it’s our wedding anniversary. Don’t you think we should celebrate?”
And in that silence, a memory crept in—unwelcome, but sharp enough to pierce through my chest.
Years ago, on my birthday, he had surprised me with a small velvet box. I could still recall the way my hands trembled as I opened it, a smile already forming on my lips. Inside was a necklace—a delicate gold chain with a shining pendant.
“Do you like it?” he’d asked, watching me closely.
“Yes,” I had whispered, tears prickling my eyes. It wasn’t about the jewelry, it was about the thought—the promise that he remembered me, that he cared.
But that evening, when Beatrice arrived for dinner, I noticed something. Around her neck hung the exact same design—only hers gleamed brighter, heavier, real. Mine… mine was a replica. A cheap imitation.
I wanted to ask him why. I wanted to demand an explanation, to scream, to cry. But instead, I pressed my lips together and forced a smile, pretending it didn’t matter.
Because I told myself then, as I had always told myself: Don’t make trouble. Don’t pick a fight. Just endure it, Candice. It’s not worth losing everything.
But now, standing there with my husband looking at me like I was nothing, I realized—enduring had stolen everything from me anyway.