For a time after our marriage, Killian kept his promises. He treated me with affection and care, lavishing me with extravagant gifts—precious and rare treasures that only someone like him could afford.
Until one day, everything unraveled.
A photo arrived on my phone—a picture of Killian lying in bed, sound asleep. His face was peaceful, but what caught my attention was the strand of long, unfamiliar hair draped across his cheek.
In that moment, the truth became painfully clear. He had another woman in his life. And all the extravagant gifts—the diamonds, the haute couture dresses, the lavish vacations—were nothing more than his way of masking his guilt, a silent confession after every betrayal.
As I stared at the photo, my phone buzzed in my hand. The caller ID flashed his name—Killian, the man idolized as the perfect husband by the world.
"Honey," he began, his voice warm and familiar, "I bought you a gift to make up for missing our wedding anniversary."
I glanced up at the enormous mall screen where his image beamed down at adoring crowds, his every move inspiring envy and admiration. My lips curled into a bitter smile.
"Thank you," I replied evenly. "It’s just as well—I have a gift for you too."
His surprise was palpable even over the phone. "Really? Honey, you’re amazing! It’s my fault, yet you still went out of your way to prepare something for me. I’m so lucky to have you."
"You’re welcome," I said, my tone betraying none of the storm within me. "I hope you’ll like it."
Later that evening, I slipped the neatly folded divorce agreement into an envelope, sealing it with finality.
This would be my gift to Killian.
Killian invited me to his company, insisting on a grand gesture. Before an audience of employees and onlookers, he presented me with the pink diamond necklace, its brilliance reflected in the admiring gazes of the crowd.
He gazed at me as if the world began and ended with us. "Honey, happy fifth anniversary!" he declared, his voice filled with affection.
I smiled, but I didn’t respond. Because I hadn’t forgotten—our fifth anniversary was three days ago.
As he fastened the necklace around my neck, he leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Honey, I’m sorry. There was an emergency at the company a few days ago—someone caused trouble, and I had to step in."