“She—she tried to stop me,” Francesca sobbed. “I was only helping, and she—”
The slap came out of nowhere. My cheek burned, but I didn’t move. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
“That’s enough!” he shouted. “She spent all day helping you, and this is how you treat her? If you hate it so much, handle it yourself!”
He lifted Francesca into his arms and carried her away, leaving me standing among broken glass and borrowed decorations.
The party never happened. No guests arrived. There was no one left to invite anyway—over the years, my friends had been replaced by his allies and her admirers.
I cut a small slice of the untouched cake, placed a single candle on top, and lit it. Closing my eyes, I whispered,
“I hope I never see either of you again.”
The next morning, I packed one suitcase and left. On the way to the airport, I sent one final message:
This is over. Don’t contact me again.
As the plane lifted into the sky, I shut off my phone, leaving behind a man who once promised me the world—and chose someone else instead.
