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Doris insisted on hosting dinner at our house. She’d handle everything, she said. I smiled and thanked her.
Shawn was extra affectionate all week, buying flowers, cooking dinner, and acting like everything was perfect.
I smiled, kissed him back, and pretended I didn’t know.
Because I had a plan.
Saturday night, our living room filled with friends and family. Doris had gone all out with catered food, champagne, and a beautiful cake with my name in perfect script.
Everyone toasted, laughed, and celebrated. Shawn stood and raised his glass.
People clapped.
I smiled. Then I stood.
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