For a split second, Amara's heart stuttered in confusion. The sharp words she had thought she hurled at him, the trembling accusations, the anger she imagined flashing in her eyes, the stunned silence she pictured on his face dissolved like smoke in the wind.
None of it had happened. She hadn't called him out. She hadn't exposed the lies. She hadn't even spoken. It had all unfolded inside her mind, a desperate rehearsal of courage she did not yet possess.
In reality, her lips had barely parted before they stitched closed again. The confrontation she longed for remained trapped in her chest, pounding painfully against her ribs. And as Sebastian's voice filtered through the phone, ordinary and unaware, Amara realized the only battle that had taken place was within herself, and she wasn't going to lose.
"Sweetie, sweetie… sweetie, what are you thinking about? Can you hear me?" Sebastian's voice came through the phone again, snapping her out of her daze.
"Our wedding anniversary is just three days away," he said warmly. "I have a surprise planned for you."
"Another surprise?" Amara let out a soft, bitter chuckle.
"You've already given me so many back then," Sebastian continued. "You stood by me when my family was nothing, and everyone else turned their backs on us. Sweetie, I love you more than my own life. No surprise can ever match that."
For a brief moment, Amara felt her breath hitch. So he still remembers… she thought. He remembers I was with him when he had nothing.
But the ache in her chest reminded her of what he had become. What they had become.
"My phone's about to die," she said quietly. "Let's talk later."
Before he could respond, she ended the call and sank to the floor, clutching her chest as tears streamed down her face. Memories came rushing in, sweet, cruel reminders of a love that once felt eternal.
Seven years ago…
"Oh, Amara," Sebastian had laughed, shaking his head. "Why didn't you tell me you went drinking? You can't keep up with them."
She had smiled, teasingly proud. "I'm fine. And with this new project, your company will get through the crisis."
He looked at her then, eyes soft. "You're such a silly girl."
"I guess I am," she'd said, leaning into him. "So don't ever lie to me, Seb. If you do… I'll leave. I'll disappear completely from your life."
He had cupped her face, whispering, "I will never lie to you. You were made only for me."
Now, remembering those words hurts more than the betrayal itself.
Her mind jumped again, six years ago, her birthday. They had been dancing, laughing under fairy lights, his hands steady around her waist.
"Make a wish," he'd said.
She smiled. "I wish Seb stays safe and well. And that we grow old together."
Back then, she had believed it. Every word.
Then came the first cracks, the subtle posts on social media. Elara Langford, smiling beside a candlelit dinner captioned My husband.
The first time, Amara brushed it off. The second time, she made excuses. The third time… she looked away, pretending not to see.
All the clues were there, she thought bitterly, staring at the empty room. And I ignored every single one of them.
She walked to her drawer, pulling out an old photo album, pictures of anniversaries, vacations, laughter that now felt staged. Her fingers trembled as she flipped through them, tears falling onto the glossy pages.
"I thought you and I would be together forever, Seb," she whispered. "Turns out everything changes. Even the heart that swore it never would."
One by one, she tore the photos out, every smile, every kiss, every promise, and dropped them into a silver tray. She struck a match, watching the flame catch, devour, and curl the edges.
The smoke rose slowly, filling the room with the scent of ashes and closure.
As the last photograph turned to embers, Amara whispered, her voice breaking but resolute:
"Sebastian Creed… we're over."
And this time, she meant it.
---
Sebastian sat on the couch, pretending to watch as Elara and Seren played together on the rug, Seren's laughter ringing through the room like music. Elara looked radiant, content, every bit the picture of a perfect little family.
But Sebastian couldn't focus.
His gaze drifted to the window, where the afternoon light stretched long and thin across the floor. Something inside him twisted, a sharp, uneasy pang he couldn't shake off.
Why did it feel so wrong? So heavy?
He rubbed the back of his neck, his chest tightening as Amara's face flashed through his mind, her soft smile, the quiet way she said sweetie, the warmth in her eyes when she looked at him with absolute trust.
Why do I feel… uneasy? he thought, pushing himself to his feet. Did Amara find out something?
The thought hit like a bolt of panic.
Sebastian grabbed his coat, barely muttering a word to Elara.