Her Betrayal, My Freedom

er table, the sound of ceramic on w

ere too careful

," she said, her voic

eel hungry. Something was off. For the past week, she had been like this,

nutes. I watched her push a pi

, putting her fork dow

I thought. Wh

nd we' ve been so busy with work. I feel like

ait

does comprehensive health check-ups. They have a coup

orced casualness in her tone, made my stomach tighten. We were both in our late twenties, an

ad physical

d. "This is more thorough. It covers everything, genetic marke

ped her fork. A small bead of sweat was on her temple, even though the room w

t' s this re

harp and out of place in our quiet home.

eet my eyes, instead focusing on a spot on the tablecloth. "I just said, I'

g strange all week. You jump every time the phone rings. And now you' re pus

linic! My friend

t fri

. "You don'

ed into a certainty. She was lying. This wasn't about me, o

me the tru

her eyes, I saw not love or concer