And then, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke, the news broke.
A photo. Hayes, stepping into a hotel with some B-list celebrities.
I lost it again. Confronted him, but this time, there was no defense.
No excuses.
He just looked at me with an exhausted, almost pitying gaze. “Elise, do you really not trust me at all? If that’s how you feel, then fine. I’ll do what you want.”
And he did.
From then on, the mask came off.
No more lies. No more pretending. No more explanations. Every week, he was in the headlines with a different woman. I even caught him one night, his lips pressed against some woman in his car, like I didn’t even exist.
When I confronted him, he didn’t bother denying it.
Silence.
That was his answer.
In five years of marriage, I lost track of how many fights we had.
But I was so tired. So damn tired.
I thought about leaving, about walking away from this twisted version of love.
But my mom... she was fighting cancer, and her one wish was to see me happy.
She had suffered so much. How could I tell her the truth? How could I break her heart like that?
So I stayed.
I stopped looking. Stopped asking. Stopped reacting to the women who came to taunt me.