No More Mr. Nice Guy

anged husband and the rustic young man carrying her child. The gossip followed us like a cloud of smoke, the stares of onlookers paint

, about what happened back there... Brandon is just... emotio

blurred city lights, my silence a wall she couldn't pe

a private resort her family owned. It was a desperate attem

ce yet. He complained of a headache, of nausea.

ck," he whimpered, leaning

thed, stroking his hair. "Just c

been a nervous flyer, and she had held my hand the entire way, whispering, "It's okay, my love. I've got you." Now, that

, talking in low voices about baby names and nursery colors. They looked like a couple.

g to get away. As I turned, my foot caught on the leg of a table, and I stumbled, my

ed out, clut

accusatory. "What are you doing? Are you trying to hurt y

of his lie. Before I could even form a denial, Olivia was th

on is right. This is manipulative an

t of my composure. To be accused of faking my pain, of being a manipulator,

stammered, looking from her fur

ng on the white fabric. But she didn't see it. Or she chose not to. All she

m of heartbreak. I couldn't even find the words to defend myself. What was the point? She had already chosen her truth