After he left, I sank into silence, staring at my frozen laptop screen. The weight of betrayal pressed down on me. My life, built on trust and loyalty, now felt like a cruel joke.

Minutes later, my phone rang. Sebastian’s name flashed across the screen. My chest tightened. That name used to make me smile. Now it churned my stomach.

I let it ring once, twice, then hit decline and powered the phone off. Enough. I wouldn’t let him manipulate me with words or empty apologies ever again.

By the time I reached home that evening, the air felt heavy. The lights were on, and I could hear someone pacing in the living room.

Sebastian.

He stood by the couch, phone in one hand, a half-empty glass of whiskey in the other. His expression twisted the moment he saw me.

“You froze my accounts?” he demanded.

I dropped my bag on the table. “Yes.”

His voice rose. “Why the hell would you do that? You know I need that money for work!”

I crossed my arms, calm but icy. “Work? Is that what you call buying necklaces, handbags, and clothes worth hundreds of thousands?”

He blinked, caught off guard.

I threw the printed statements at him. Papers scattered across the floor. “Look at this, Sebastian! Do you even remember what honesty is?”

His face paled. “Veronica… I can explain.”

“Then explain,” I said sharply. “Are these for your mistress?”

He clenched his jaw. “Of course not! Why would I—”

“Don’t lie!” I snapped. “Why even buy these things?”

For a heartbeat, guilt flickered in his eyes before he masked it. “I… I bought them for you. They were gifts.”

I laughed bitterly. “Gifts? Using my own money? Are you insane?”

He clenched his fists. “I was going to pay you back! Once the investors closed the deal—”

“Enough,” I interrupted, my voice shaking—not from fear, but exhaustion. “I’m done, Sebastian. I’ve had enough lies, enough humiliation. I don’t want this marriage. We should separate.”

Disbelief replaced his anger. “What? No—you can’t mean that. Veronica, think about what you’re saying!”

“I have,” I said firmly. “You’ve drained me—emotionally, financially, completely. I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

He stepped toward me, desperation etched into his features. “Please, don’t do this. What about our son? What about Adrian? What will happen to him?”

I took a step back. “He’ll stay with me.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You can’t—Veronica, I know I’ve made mistakes, but I can fix this! I’ll change, I’ll—”