Married To A Monster's Shadow

opilot, the city lights blurring into streaks of indifferent color. Our beautiful house, once a sanctuary,

ed shut, I saw Dahlia' s face, her intimate expressions, captured perfectly by Evan' s lens. I hear

uilt an entire narrative around me, a flawless facade for his adoring public, while secretly worshipping at the

beginning of my birthday. My 35th birthday. The day I was supposed to

apology, not an explanation. It was an anonymous message. A link. My heart lu

in a dimly lit room, the same studio I' d found yesterday. They were laughing, bodies pressed together, a raw, undeniable intimacy in their movements

grainy screen. A wave of nausea washed over me, so strong I had to gasp for air. It wasn't just heartbreak anymore. It

My mind screamed. On our a

roaring inferno. He had gaslighted me, lied to me, made me feel crazy for questioning his devotion

ic image, his carefully constructed persona of the devoted artist. What would

ayal. I combined it with a screenshot from the anonymous video, blurring Dahlia's explicit pose just enough to make it suggestive without being overtly illegal. Then, with a chilling calmness I didn't know I possessed

shed on the screen, his perfect smile now a moc

My voice was steady, betraying non

e was a guttural roar, raw with fury. "That po

scaping. "Not 'love,' not 'muse'? Funny how quickly your l

career! Do you have any idea what this will do to her? To me? To everything I'

my shattered marriage? The career you're fueling with explicit

licious act of revenge!" he spat, his voice thick with unadulte

e, Evan? What about our marriage? What about ten years of my life I poure

ign! You think you can just destroy people's lives because you're feeling neglecte

ening. I hadn't expected regret from him, but I hadn't expected this aggressive, defensive rage

doorbell chimed, insistent and sharp. My

llen. Her eyes were wide, brimming with tears, her face a mask of distraught innocence. She

ould you do this?" Her hands were clasped at her chest, as if in p

He strode up the path, his face a thundercloud. He didn't even look

his hand reaching out to her. He pulled her into his arms, strokin

. "Look at what you've done, Erin," he snarled, his arm still arou

sleeping with my husband, Evan, for years! She's posed for explicit p

ng Dahlia closer. "You're twisting everything. You're jeal

into a pout. "I never meant for this to happen, Erin. I just admired his art. He said you under

ing with a dangerous calm. "You knew he was married. You knew

cutting through the air like a knife. "O

nger. "You want a divorce? Because of a few pictures? Because you're having a jealous fit?" He s

y ground. "I'm done being your supportive wife, your si

You're not going anywhere, Erin. You're my wife. You belong to me." He dragged me clos

more in surprise than agony. He released me, a sudden flicker of

verted, his face hardening. "Look what you made me do, Erin!" he yelled, poi

secondary to the chilling realization that had just slammed into me. He didn'

need to witness this spectacle." He guided her past me, his body shielding her from my gaze. He didn't

heard Dahlia's feigned sobs, Evan's murmured reassuranc

mattered to him, not in the way a wife should. I was a prop, a part of his narrative, a convenient accessory

no m

dified into a cold, unbreakable resolve. I would not just leave. I would

room, the kitchen, the bedroom, all repositories of a broken dream. I went straight to

l. To Hudson Wilcox. My steadfast friend, my rock.

ng, "I need you. I need a divorce. And I need t

uments, my laptop, my emergency bag. The legal papers from Hudson would arrive

needed to escape the gilded cage. I gathered a few clothes, tossed them into a duffel bag, and s

e front door echoed in the silence of the empty house. He would find my note soon. He woul

towards my new life had already been