Another voice cut through, sharper than the rest. "Women like that shouldn’t be married. She’ll only bring trouble to her household!"
Each comment felt like a slap, their words sinking into my chest like stones. The weight of their stares made the air thick, almost suffocating.
In an instant, I became the center of everyone’s disdain, their judgmental whispers slicing through me like knives.
Yet, Charles stood firmly by Dorothea’s side, his hand gently patting her back as if shielding her from the cruelty of the world. He didn’t even glance my way.
I stood there, rooted in place, the ache in my chest spreading like wildfire until it stole the very breath from my lungs. My heart felt as though it were cracking, piece by fragile piece.
The man tenderly comforting another woman, how could he be the same man I had loved, trusted, and built a life with for seven years?
Perhaps this was fate’s cruel design from the start.
I still remember the first time I met Charles. It was at a funeral home.
I had just lost my father; he had just lost his mother.