His Sacred Promise, My Stolen Dreams

sie

e to the firm Ethan and I had planned, the firm where I would have been the lead architect, the creative force. I had poured years of my lif

ooked up in surprise when I handed the envelope to my boss.

oice steady. "I've accepted an a

. what about the wedding?" someone murmured, voicing the

s off too. New plans." My colleagues exchanged uneasy glances. They didn't know the

I heard voices from inside. Two voices. One was Ethan's, the other, unmistakably, Kie

in her hand. Ethan was stroking her hair, a look of tender concern on his face. He looked up, startled, a

oo loud, a little too innocent. He suddenly noticed the two suitcase

lf-empty wine bottle, the scattered throw pillows, the shoes kicked off beside the c

he glanced around the living room. "Did you... move

. "Marie Kondo-ing, you know. Decluttering." I wasn't about

You look a little pale. The wedding planning must be so stressful! You know, Mark and I just elo

her hand. A cold dread seeped i

d, fixing my gaze on her. "And as for the w

led off? Cassie, what

, this is terrible news! But, you know," she turned to me, a smug glint in her eyes, "perhaps it's for the best. After all, I am

he was building, with her, under my nose. He looked at Kiera, then at me, his face a mixture of

nveiling of a secret I was never meant to know. The apartment, once o

solidified into an unyielding block of ice. There was no turni

hollow. I managed a small, almost imperc

I didn't wait. I turned, my steps deliberate, and retreated to the guest bedroom,

ought they had finally pushed me out. But they were wrong. This wasn't their victory; it was my liberation. Kiera wasn't an innocent victim; she was a

ast box. My hands didn't shake. My eyes were dry

y gone, long before I ever walked out that