Lies
Celeste stormed into their house, her heart pounding like a war drum in her chest. The moment she stepped inside, it all came rushing back—every touch, every whispered promise, every stolen glance that made her believe in him again.
And it had all been a lie.
She yanked open their shared closet without hesitation, grabbing Adrian's clothes in a frenzy. Suits, ties, his cologne bottle—everything that reminded her of him was flung onto the floor with shaking hands.
She reached for a suitcase, fury and heartbreak fighting for space in her chest.
When Adrian burst through the front door minutes later, breathless and disheveled, he looked like a man on the edge.
"Celeste, please—stop!" he gasped. "Just listen to me—please!"
She didn't even glance at him. She shoved another shirt into the suitcase with trembling hands. "I told you," she spat, "I want all your things out of the house. Out of my life."
Adrian took a few steps closer, his voice breaking. "Celeste, it wasn't what you think—it was a setup. Emily planned the whole thing."
She let out a bitter laugh. "A setup? That's what you're going with?"
"I went to meet her," he admitted, guilt tightening every word.
"She told me she has something to tell me about the truth of the incidents that recently happened—but when I got there, something was wrong.
I lost consciousness, Celeste. I blacked out in the hallway.
And when I woke up, I was already in that room—with her. I swear to you, nothing happened."
Celeste froze, her back to him.
Adrian's voice softened. "You know I wouldn't... I couldn't... not after everything we've been through. You have to believe me."
She turned slowly, eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I want to believe you," she said, her voice cracking. "God, Adrian, I want to. But you went to her. You chose to meet her. And now I'm supposed to just sit here and trust you again?"
He reached for her. "I made a mistake going there, yes—but I didn't betray you. Nothing happened."
Celeste shook her head as the tears finally spilled. "It doesn't matter what happened in that room. What matters is what you've done to me—what this marriage has done to me."
Adrian flinched. "Celeste—"
"I can't do this anymore!" she cried, the suitcase slipping from her hands. "I can't keep loving a man who breaks me and then asks me to piece myself back together for him."
His eyes were filled with panic. "Don't say that—don't give up on us."
She stepped back, breathing hard. "I already have. I just... didn't want to admit it until now."
Adrian's chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. "You're my wife."
"And this marriage is killing me!" she screamed. "Don't you get it? I've been drowning since the day it started."
Adrian stood there, stunned silent.
"I was forced into this," she whispered. "Don't you remember? It was my late grandpa who made this arrangement with you. I didn't walk into this because I was ready—I walked in because I was in love with you and desperate to keep what little I had left of you."
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"I thought I could survive it. I thought maybe... maybe you'd love me back the same way. But I was wrong. I've suffered so much in silence, Adrian. This marriage—it's not what I wanted. Not like this."
Tears blurred her vision, but she forced herself to look at him.
"I want a divorce."
Adrian's face crumbled. "Celeste, please—don't do this. We can fix this. We can start over."
She shook her head. "I don't want to fix something that was broken from the beginning. Let me go, Adrian. Please... just let me go."
The silence between them stretched painfully long.
Finally, Adrian gave the smallest of nods.
And it shattered her.