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My breath hitched. My heart didn’t just sink; it plummeted, taking my stomach with it, leaving a cavernous, icy void in my chest. The world tilted. The music faded into a dull roar in my ears. The city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of pain.
IT WAS HIM.
An upset woman | Source: Pexels
My partner of seven years. The man who had held me just last night, whispering promises of a future. The man who was supposedly at a late work meeting. The man who had encouraged me to push my friend to introduce her new boyfriend.
He started to take a step towards me, then another, his face a mask of horror. Just then, I saw her. My best friend. She was walking towards our table, two drinks in her hands, her eyes bright, a triumphant smile on her face. She looked up, saw him frozen in place, saw me, then her smile disintegrated. Her face drained of all color.
She dropped the drinks. Glass shattered, liquid splashed across the polished floor. Nobody else seemed to notice the sound over the din of the bar, but for me, it was a thunderclap.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. The air felt thick, suffocating. Every breath was a shard of ice in my lungs. My entire life, every memory, every shared laugh, every tear, every plan, every single tender moment with him, every intimate secret shared with her… it all flashed before my eyes, twisting into a grotesque, mocking parody.
This wasn’t just a hidden boyfriend.
This wasn’t just a betrayal by one person.
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