From Trophy Wife To Forgotten

tomach turn. A wave of nausea rolled throu

his brow furrowed with fak

ink I might be coming down with something." It was an eas

here we'd spent countless nights watching movies. The bookshelf filled with his favorites and mine, their spines pressed together. The coffee maker he bought me for my birthday la

ext from an unknown number. I picke

as a small, fluffy pink charm hanging from the rearview mirror. I had

my taste,

e wasn't just a confirmation; it was a taunt, a declaration of victory.

tial shock. The anger and hurt were still there, but they we

K

n. My coldness was a weapon, my only defense ag

s him, calling from the other room. He wa

s thinking we could go to that new Italian plac

g our future dates while another woman wa

my voice flat. "

the picture, dangling from his rearview mirror. It was a small, fluffy, obnoxious symbol of his betra

tonight," he whispered. I felt nothing. The kiss was just pressure on my lips. His words were just noise. My heart, which used to b

was a folded receipt. It wasn't from a business dinner or a gas station. It was from a jewelry store. A purchase made two days ago. A delicate silver bracele