Neither of them seemed to notice my bitterness.
"Of course, she’s my f-friend," Magnus stuttered, avoiding my gaze.
"You know, Astrid, I'm very thankful to Magnus," Ingrid chimed in, smiling smugly. "He’s saved my life so many times."
I bit my lip, swallowing the rage rising in my throat.
"Really?" I said sweetly. "Aww, I’m so relieved you didn’t die."
As I cut into my steak, I imagined I was slicing them both apart instead.
That night, I went to bed without a word. Magnus lay beside me, but I turned my back to him, refusing to face him.
"Darling, why aren’t you facing me?" he murmured, but I stayed silent, pretending to be asleep.
I woke up in the middle of the night, my throat dry. I got out of bed and made my way to the kitchen for a drink.
As I walked down the hall, I heard something—soft noises coming from the guest room.
I stopped, my body was still going.
The sounds became clearer.
Moans.
A deep sense of dread settled over me as I stepped closer.
Slowly, I pushed the door open.
And then I saw them.
Magnus was on top of Ingrid, his body moving against hers.
I stumbled back, my breath catching in my throat.
The sight of my husband, buried between another woman’s legs, tore through me like a dagger to the chest.
A pain unlike anything I had ever felt. A pain I knew would never heal.
I turned and walked away before I could torture myself any further.
I returned to my room, but I didn’t cry.
I refused to cry. I refused to let Magnus have any more of my tears.
Instead, I picked up a pen and paper.
If Magnus wanted Ingrid, he could have her.
But not without a final farewell.
And so, I wrote a letter—one last goodbye to the man who had broken me.
The night air was cold against my skin as I packed the last of my belongings into a small bag. My hands trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer rage coursing through my veins. I had endured enough.
Magnus and Ingrid had taken everything from me—my love, my trust, my child. I had planned to leave silently, but after witnessing their betrayal firsthand, I knew I couldn’t just disappear like a wounded animal. No, they needed to know that the Astrid they had broken would rise again, stronger than ever.
I left my letter on the bedside table, the ink still fresh.
To my dearest husband,
I wish you and Ingrid all the happiness in the world. You deserve each other—two backstabbers bound by deceit. May your love be as strong as the lies you built it on.