The Truth, Finally
He stammered. Said her name was Clara. “It wasn’t serious.” “It was a mistake.” “It didn’t mean anything.”

I took his hand, calmly.

“You know what hurts? Not the affair. Not Clara. But how lazy you were. How you left her underwear in my bed and lied to my face.”

I stood, set my house key on the table, and walked away.

No shouting. No revenge.

Just freedom.

Starting Over
I stayed with Mira for a while. Her spare room was small, but it held peace. And I needed peace more than I needed closure.

Weeks later, at the grocery store, I ran into Dante — a high school friend with kind eyes and a cart full of cinnamon bread.

We got coffee. Then lunch. Then more.

He never pried. He listened.

I wasn’t looking for love. I was just looking for air.

And he gave me space to breathe.

The Fallout
Eventually, rumors started circulating.

Clara was pregnant.

He reached out: “I miss you.”
“I made a mistake.”

I wished him well.

I kept walking.