I Wrote My Own Ending

At the dinner celebrating our fifth wedding anniversary, I held the pregnancy test report in my pocket, planning to surprise my CEO husband.

However, the moment the doors opened, I froze.

A stunning woman stood there with her arm intimately linked through my husband's. She clung to Charles Lawrence with the ease and confidence of someone who clearly belonged at his side, carrying herself like the lady of the house.

Neither Charles nor the guests found it strange. If anything, they seemed entertained.

Someone even joked,

"Mr. Lawrence and Ms. Cooper aren't just ideal partners at work. Their chemistry is something to admire as well. I've personally reserved the presidential suite at Jubilee City's finest resort for Mr. Lawrence tonight. You can be sure no one will disturb you."

Fiona blushed and slipped shyly into Charles's arms. He lowered his head and kissed her hard.

They fit together so naturally, so intimately, that the sight was unbearably glaring.

My thoughts flashed back to the night before, when Charles had pressed me into the bed. In that moment, I had caught sight of a strange message sent by someone named Fiona:

[Everyone in the company thinks we've slept together.]

Charles had explained that Fiona was only his assistant, a forty-year-old woman, and that the message was nothing more than a punishment from a lost game, a foolish dare.

That explanation had dissolved my suspicion and anger.

Then, I finally saw the truth. I was the one who had lost everything.

Inside my pocket, the pregnancy report was crushed into a tight ball. I forced the tears back, stepped away, and opened the invitation from the National Aerospace Research Institute on my phone.

Without hesitation, I tapped Accept.

Three days later, I would vanish completely from Charles's world.

Five years into our marriage, Charles Lawrence was a force to be reckoned with in the outside world. At home, he was the epitome of kindness and thoughtfulness, never pressuring me into anything I did not want to do.

However, when I showed up at the party, pregnancy test report in hand, ready to drop a happy bombshell on him, I was the one who got the shock of a lifetime: he had already trashed our vows.

Well, if that was how it was going to be, I was done for good.

From then on, I lived for myself, and only myself.

...

I pocketed my phone, my hands shaking so hard that I could barely grip it. I felt like I had been dunked in a tub of ice, frozen from the inside out.

There was Charles, not even trying to hide it, cozying up to Fiona Cooper for all to see. The crowd was eating it up, chanting Fiona's name, some even daring them to seal the show with a kiss.

The room was a roar of voices.

I stared at the man who had been all sweet whispers and cuddles with me just last night, then doting on another woman. It