Queen Of His Twisted Betrayal

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nd him, rattling the very foundations of the house. A cold draft swept through our bedroom, chilling

ad nothing to do with the physical. It wa

the garage door rumbled open, and the sleek black silhouette of his car

sperate hold that mirrored the one he had on his crumbling life. It wa

e one he' d assigned to Cara, a chirpy, upbeat tune that made my stomach clench. He' d d

p? Or perhaps in the stolen moments he claimed he was "working

th, I activated the dashcam footage from the car he' d just driven away in. I had installed it wee

the frame. He was staring at his phone, the screen casting an eerie blue glo

nd slammed his fist against the dashboard. The phone

ing, a silent battle raging within him. He was fighting, I knew, but not for me. H

en immediately started a

he reached down, snatched the p

soft, choked sob. Cara. Always the victi

yet it echoed in the silent car, in my silent room,

rp intake of air, a subtle tremor

on. I watched his car disappear into the pre-dawn gloom, speeding awa

ld glass, tears streaming down my face, a s

took him less than ten minutes to reach her apar

door opened, and then Cara was there, scrambling inside, her sm

w urgency, a desperate, uncontrolled passion that made my blood run cold. It wa

infidelity, a soundtrack to my despair. Her apartment light, a single beacon in the darkness, mocked me as