Chapter 2

As the first rays of morning sunlight streamed through the curtains into the bedroom, Gavin wrapped his arms around me from behind.

His voice carried just the right mix of guilt and concern.

His warm breath brushed past my ear: "Allison, I'm sorry. The lab really couldn't let me go last night, and you had to spend your birthday all alone. Baby, can you forgive me?"

I looked at his bloodshot eyes.

For years, I had forgiven him before he even apologized.

A few gentle words.

A small gift.

A promise that things would be different.

And every time, I wanted to believe him.

But this time was different.

I wasn't forgiving him because I trusted him.

I was giving him one final chance to prove that our marriage still mattered.

After that, I would never look back.

Seeing that I didn't say anything, Gavin immediately pulled out his trump card.

He took my hand, flashing a confident, doting smile: "To make it up to you, I've cleared my entire schedule for next week. We're going to Europe!"

He paused, letting the excitement build.

"We'll visit that romantic country you've been talking about for years. We'll turn it into our proper honeymoon trip!"

For a moment, I just looked at him.

Europe.

The trip I had waited for so long.

And suddenly, I thought about the secret I had kept for five years.

I had planned to tell him there.

Not because I wanted to prove anything.

I just wanted him to finally know the woman he had married.

He had always believed I was only a wife who stayed behind him and supported him.

He never knew the life I had given up for him.

I believed that when he learned the truth, he would be proud.

Maybe he would finally understand how much I had loved him.

As he spoke, he pulled out his phone right in front of me.

His fingers flew across the screen.

A few minutes later, two first-class tickets to Europe landed straight in my inbox, followed by confirmation emails from luxury hotels.

Then, he pulled out a velvet box.

Inside was the diamond necklace I had once admired in a store window months ago.

He had remembered.

"Do you like it? Anything is worth it if it makes you happy."

As he fastened the necklace around my neck, I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

For a moment, I wanted to believe him.

Maybe this time, he really meant it.

Maybe our marriage was still worth saving.

I tried to be happy.

I really did.

But somewhere deep inside, a small voice kept asking me one question.

Would this time really be different?

This was the trip I had waited years for.

I prepared everything carefully, choosing outfits and planning our itinerary.

I wanted to be excited.

But somewhere deep inside, a small voice kept asking:

Would this time really be different?

Finally, the morning of our departure arrived.

Early that day, I packed two heavy suitcases. I neatly lined them up right by the front door.

I slipped into a lightweight, comfortable travel outfit, sat down on the sofa, and waited happily for Gavin to drive me to the airport.

The hands of the clock hit our agreed-upon departure time.

The hallway remained dead silent.

No honking car horn. No familiar footsteps.

My heart skipped a beat for no reason. A cold sense of dread surged in my chest.

I reached for my phone to call Gavin. But before my thumb could tap his contact, the screen lit up in my hand.

It was a text from him.

"Allison, I'm so sorry, I truly am."

My eyes scanned the lines.

"A massive, devastating crisis just hit the company's latest project. Both the board and the investors are breathing down our necks. I genuinely can't get away."

The text continued.

"We have to cancel the trip. I've already processed the refunds for the flights and the hotel. Once I get through this crazy week, I promise I'll make it up to you double, okay?"

I stared at the words on the screen.

My stomach dropped.

There was no anger. No hysteria.

There was only a hollow, deathly silence.

I didn't reply to the message.

Instead, I mechanically unlocked my phone. I opened my social media feed.

Right at the top, a newly posted photo from a mutual friend pierced straight through my eyes.

It was from a parent-child event.

The location tag showed an exclusive private kindergarten on the outskirts of Boston.

Under the bright morning sun, Gavin was squatting beside a playground ride. He was smiling warmly.

Standing right next to him was an elegantly dressed Madeline.

And right there on Gavin's shoulders sat their young son, waving a small paper flag.

A picture-perfect family of three.

It radiated a sickening, harmonious happiness. The sunlight spilled over them, mocking me like a sharp slap across the face.

So his "devastating crisis" was playing family at a kindergarten sports day.

His "impossible to leave" excuse simply meant one thing. He was reserving all his affection, favoritism, and time for another household.

At that exact second, the very last shred of hope in my heart was utterly crushed.

All the patience I had built up vanished. All the endurance and quiet disappointment I had accumulated over the years suddenly ignited.

It turned into a fierce blaze, burning every trace of his love down to ashes.

I slowly turned my head.

I looked at the two lonely suitcases waiting by the front door. Suddenly, I found the whole thing utterly pathetic.

I am done playing the fool.

This was the end of us.

Let the cycle end right here.

"You broke your promise one time too many, Gavin," I whispered to the empty room.

I didn't cry. I didn't smash a single thing.

I walked over to the crystal jar in the corner of the living room. I pulled a cold coin out of the drawer.

And I dropped it straight into the glass without a moment's hesitation.

Clink.

The sharp, metallic ring echoed through the empty, silent apartment.

That was coin number ninety-eight.

Then, I picked up my phone. I sent a single text to the law firm:

"Start preparing the divorce papers."