His Betrayal, Her Freedom

ad attacked her, my mind drifted back to the beginning. Back to the day

s attentive, loving. He swore to me that his childhood f

hen I first saw old photos of them together, their arms slung around each other, looking more like a

m. I wanted t

ths ago, Brit

hone was always buzzing with texts from her. Our quiet evenings were interrupted by her frantic call

ndyman, therapist, and chau

s because Brittany "really needed a friend" after a breakup. He spent more time at her apartment t

ecame more an

stop wearing my favorit

had asked

said, not meeting my eyes

h us, Liam," I pointed out

r, and the smell lingers. It's not a

habits in my own home to cater to the sensitivities of a woman I

hedule dictated our plans, and her emotional state dictated his mood. I wasn't hi

er. But looking at him now, defending the woman who ha

future wife. It was as a placeholder, a temporary fixture

t, our relationship, my love

s the pu