The Matcha Scent of His Betrayal

at my chart would ensure my husband's success. But on my birthday, he abandoned me

hair tie and a festival souvenir tucked in his pocket. He

im kiss her passionately on the terrace during the fireworks displa

im the divorce paper

g me with my new guide, Casey. He punched Casey, then

ng. It was a video call

ts are furious! They're demandi

pte

Stanle

al lie didn't begin with a scream. It started with a scent. The lin

mattered anymore. He' d promised for weeks we' d finally go to the niche sci-fi film festival I' d

tossing his jacket onto a chair. Anais Nichols, his new intern, had been crying again. He'd rushed out, leavin

e breast pocket, a small, vibrant green hair tie. It wasn' t mine. My hair was dark, my ties black. A

e flat, "did you take Ana

elmed with work, you know. I thought a distraction might help. And she mentioned she likes sci-fi." He

his word for everything that mattered

y birthday," I st

I even brought you something." He gestured to the kitchen counter. A small, neatly wrapped box sat there, besi

was barely a whisper. "You know I

s raving about it. I just thought... maybe you'd try something new." He picked up the box, pushing it toward m

e for 'shut up and

ched in my hand. "Howard," I said, my voice gaining an unner

ause Anais had a rough day? She's so young, so naive. Sh

andon me, Howard. Every single day. But God forbi

t a good look. She's just a kid. I'm helping her. Yo

dvisor's prophecy. "Her astrological chart is a perfect match to ensure his company's success." Not "her heart," not "her int

now what, Howard?" I met his gaze, my eyes dry. "Maybe I sh

?" he blustered, his face a mask of confusio

ais is twelve years younger. With a matching chart. Think of the boundless potentia

my arm. "Don't be ridiculous. Let's just... talk this out. You're my wife." He tried to pull me

scent of matcha and another woman clingi

Kacey!" he roared, frustrated. He grabb

d marble floor with a soft clink. Beside it, a small, silver token. A miniature spaceship. The limite

r of guilt, quickly replaced by indignation, crossed his f

ur intern to, on my birthday, after abandoning me," I finished for

ing. Anything you want. Just..." He trailed off, his phone buzzing insistent

t client issue. I'll be back. We'll talk." He mad

a strange sense of lightness filling me.

ll trying to answer the call, still trying to orch

, nestled against Howard's shoulder. In the background, the glowing neon sign of the sci-fi film festival. The c

the spiritual advisor had

olute clarity. It was over. All of it. The lie, the pretense, the decade of sac

e closet. My fingers brushed against the old coding trophies, the climbing

e to recla