Betrayal's Bitter Taste

hat felt like the culmination of a lifelong dream. It was our fifth anniversary, and I couldn't wait to surprise Oliv

, her hand intertwined with Mark' s, my long-time mentor. Her amplified voice cut through the air: "...and I owe it all to o

nnoyance. "Ethan," she flatly stated, "You' re back. This isn' t a good time." Mark smirked, wearing my hea

ncompetent," her betrayal a physical blow. The humiliation burned, a hot, sharp thing in

shredded it into pieces, letting them flutter to her feet like fallen snow. I walked out of that restaurant, turning m