Every buried grievance rose up, striking me like whips. Only I knew how much this final straw had crushed me.
“Cassandra, when I drank myself half-dead with clients, you went with him to get a haircut. When I lay in a hospital bed after a car accident, you were out playing tennis with him. Every time I needed you, you were with your ‘best friend’—even today!”
My chest heaved, tears streaming.
“He mocked me to my face with those filthy words, and you flirted with him right in front of me. And when I finally broke down and called the police, you didn’t defend me—you screamed I was crazy!”
I wiped my face with shaking hands.
“From that moment on, Cassandra… we’re finished.”
Silence.
Then, a soft voice brushed my ear:
“Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.”
I turned—
She wasn’t talking to me. She was wearing headphones, playing games with Tristan through a microphone.
…
Their laughter and shouts echoed from the bedroom all night.
I sat alone on the balcony, Cassandra’s pregnancy test report clenched in my fist, and called the lawyer.
“Hello. Please draft a divorce agreement.”