Chapter 3
That was the moment I realized that our entire marriage had been built on lies.
Funny, wasn't it? Everyone used to call us the perfect couple.
But once the illusion cracked, everything fell apart faster than I could've imagined.
In two days, it would've been our tenth wedding anniversary.
We used to celebrate every year. It started with candlelit dinners, then turned into a quick goodnight kiss, and eventually just a one-line text message.
I don't know if David ever noticed how we'd changed. Maybe he did and just didn't care anymore.
That night, he didn't come home. Instead, he sent me a message: [I am in Baloria.]
And of course, soon after, I saw another video.
Grace had posted it.
They were walking hand-in-hand through a sea of roses, her diamond ring catching the light.
She'd pinned a comment under the video: [My favorite couple is finally getting married.]
And someone replied: [Fresh roses are beautiful. Wilted ones belong in the trash.]
Attached was a picture of a withered bouquet.
I thought that would be the end of her little show.
But not long after, a new request popped up on my Twitter.
I accepted. Without saying a word, the person sent me an Instagram link.
I opened it. There it was—David and Grace, sitting in a rose petal bath, holding hands.
In that moment, I understood everything.
Grace couldn't wait to take my place.
On our wedding anniversary, after more than a month of silence, David finally showed up.
To my surprise, he even hired a private chef to cook us a lavish dinner.
That night, he lit the candles and pulled out a bouquet, clearly proud of his "surprise".
"Sophie, happy tenth anniversary," he said softly. "These roses are from Baloria."
The moment I saw the bouquet, Grace's post flashed in my mind—the photo of wilted roses tossed in a trash bin.
And suddenly, I laughed.
David's expression softened. "Sophie, it's been so long since I've seen you smile.
"I knew you'd like them."
I looked at him, still smiling, tears welling up in my eyes.
"You're right," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "I love them. I really do."
"Actually," I continued, "I have a gift for you too. Close your eyes."
David's lips curved into a contented smile. "You're being romantic tonight."
I said gently, "Don't open them until I count to twenty."
He chuckled. "Alright."
I started to count.
When David opened his eyes, the room was empty. Only a brown envelope lay on the table.
He picked it up, tore it open, and froze the moment he saw what was inside. The color drained from his face.
"Sophie..."
He ran out barefoot, panic flooding his voice as he called her name.
Now he realized what that faint dragging sound had been earlier—the sound of a suitcase rolling across the floor.
Sophie had already decided to leave him.
As he skimmed through the papers, he finally understood everything. It turned out that Sophie had already sent him the divorce email.
And he had agreed to it.
But he never actually saw the email.
So the truth was clear—Grace had replied on his behalf.
David's stomach twisted with regret. He hated himself for being such a fool.
He had always loved Sophie, so why did he keep hurting her?
He thought back to that night when he went to a hotel with Grace. He'd told Sophie he was meeting a suspect for work.
It wasn't the first lie he'd told, and he'd repeated it so many times he almost believed it himself.
He raced downstairs, desperate to find her.
But by the time he reached the parking garage, she was gone.
He begged the building manager to pull up the security footage. All he saw was Sophie stepping into the elevator, suitcase in hand. After that, there was no sign of her anywhere.
There was no trace of her leaving. It was as if she had vanished into thin air.
He should've known. From the moment Sophie found out about his affair with Grace, she had already started planning her exit.
But he had been arrogant enough to believe she would never actually leave. After all, they'd been together for ten years. She loved him too much, didn't she?
He forgot one thing—Sophie hated dirt. She couldn't stand filth, and now that included him.
David flipped through the divorce papers, searching for a note, a letter, anything.
There was nothing.
Not a single word left behind.
Only her name was written in cold black ink at the bottom of the divorce agreement.
He opened their old messages, scrolled through Grace's chats with Sophie, and saw how many times Grace had taunted and humiliated her behind his back. Every line made him feel sicker.
He dropped the papers and called Sophie, praying she'd answer. He wanted a second chance.
Not surprisingly, Sophie's phone was unreachable.
He could only send her a message, hoping she would at least reply.
But the moment he hit send, it failed to go through.
It hit him like a punch. Sophie had blocked him everywhere.
David started calling her coworkers, hoping someone had heard from her.
Each one of them hung up after cursing him out.
He should've realized it before. The last time they caught him cheating, the only reason no one at her office made it public was because Sophie had begged them not to.
She had probably told them she was getting divorced.
That was why no one would speak to him now.
He tried mutual friends next. Every call ended the same way—with a stream of insults and no answers.
That was when it finally sank in. Sophie wasn't coming back. This time, she was gone for good.
David slumped against the wall, completely drained. It felt like every ounce of strength had been ripped out of him. He scrolled through his messages with Sophie, realizing there were barely any left.
The few that remained were meaningless words he'd sent while sneaking around with Grace—cheap lies that even he now found pathetic.
If he could see through them this easily, Sophie must have known the truth all along.
The guilt hit him like a wave. He started typing one message after another.
[Sophie, I know I messed up. Please, just give me one more chance.]
[Can we not get divorced?]
[Sophie, just come back. I'll do anything you want, okay?]
[Sophie, I swear, I'll cut things off with Grace right now.]
He still hadn't gotten any reply on Twitter, but David wasn't willing to wait any longer.
David told himself that if he kept showing how sorry he was, Sophie would forgive him eventually.
Anger and desperation tangled inside him as he grabbed his phone and called Grace, "Grace, get over here. Now."
Her voice came through soft and sugary. "Dave, I knew you wouldn't stay mad at me. I'll be right there."
Minutes later, she arrived.
The moment she stepped through the door, she threw herself into his arms, but instead of catching her, David's hand came down hard across her face.