His Sacred Promise, My Stolen Dreams

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ained our joint account two months ago, then lied to my face for weeks,

imly lit, expensive restaurant. Ethan's arm was slung casually around her shoulders, his head bent close as they laughed. A private joke, a stolen

ily." Her son was "like a nephew." His loyalty, his affection, was a shifting tide, always flowing towards whoever needed him m

pain, to cauterize the wound. But enough was enough. I slammed the phone face down on the counter, silencing the st

enna. Her voice, usually bright and energetic, w

flat, devoid of any inflection

Then, a rush of questions. "What? Cassie,

ugh the word tasted like ash.

alist's instinct kicked in, demanding details, context. "Tell me eve

vering slightly. "I just needed to tell someone. I need to make

ll cut, a tiny gash in the fabric of my life. "We regret to inform you..." "Our deepest apologies for the inconvenience..." Each word, each forced pleasantry,

hanging in the air. The place felt enormous, empty. His absence was

sed in his new role as Kiera's savior to spare a thought for the woman he was supposed

hes, my sketchbooks, my tools, my essential documents. The things that were undeniably mine. Everything he had bought me, everything that reminded me of us, I

d now I was walking off-script. The judgment, the whispers, the pity-it would all come. But it didn't matter. Not anymore. I wasn't leaving be

r the bedroom. My mind drifted, not to Ethan, but to the fellowship, to the distant city, to new faces

e, almost smug smile playing on his lips. He hadn't even noticed the packed suitca

didn't even look at me. He was already shrugging off his jacket, his

till so blissfully unaware. An