He shouted. He tried to guilt me. But I didn’t flinch.
I packed a small suitcase, called a friend to drive me, and went straight to my mom’s place. She opened the door with tears in her eyes before I even said a word.
The next day, I filed for divorce.
Helen, of course, tried to ruin everything. She spread rumors through Peter’s side of the family and told anyone who would listen that I was manipulative, cold, and selfish.
But none of it stuck.
Especially not after I got the restaurant’s security footage.
I went back the next week to ask if I could access the recordings. The manager said it had already been preserved, thanks to the owner’s request.
William was there, leaning on the host stand and chatting with the staff like he belonged there. He greeted me with a smile that was both warm and quietly concerned.
“Hey,” he said.
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