The apartment felt suffocating. The walls, which had once felt like a safe haven, now pressed in on me, echoing with the silence of everything I'd learned. My eyes wandered over the lavish furniture, the expensive artwork, the picture-perfect life Alexander had given me. For a fleeting moment, I questioned if it had all been a lie. Had it all been staged? Was I just another conquest for him to feed his ego?
Sitting on the edge of the couch, I let my mind drift to the good times. I remembered the first time he kissed me, the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the world. His touch, so gentle and tender, always making me feel wanted, adored. The moments when we talked for hours, when everything felt easy and natural. I held onto those memories like a lifeline, desperate to believe that the man I fell for, the man who made me feel like the luckiest woman alive, wasn't the same man who had betrayed me.
But that's when it hit me.
It had all been too perfect.
He was too perfect.
And now, the perfect façade had shattered, leaving behind a gaping hole that I couldn't fill. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was the perfection itself that had blinded me. His charm, his generosity, the way he'd made me feel safe… it was all so flawless. Too flawless. How could someone like him not have something lurking beneath the surface?
I stood up, pacing across the living room, my mind spinning. I tried to piece everything together, but it felt like there was no clear answer. How could I have been so blind? How could I not have seen the warning signs earlier? The late-night phone calls, the subtle hints he'd given me about his "work stress," the way he would sometimes pull away, as if something was weighing on him, but he wouldn't talk about it. He'd been distant—distant in ways that didn't make sense, but I pushed it all aside, convinced that things would work out.
And now, here I was.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room. My eyes were bloodshot, red from crying. My face was pale, and the exhaustion of the last few days had settled into the lines of my skin. My hand instinctively reached up to touch my reflection, but I froze as I looked at myself.
I was angry. No, more than that—I was furious. But I was also heartbroken, devastated, confused. I felt lost. And in that moment, I couldn't tell if I was angry at him, at myself, or at the world for letting me fall for a man who had deceived me.
I couldn't take it anymore.
Without thinking, I picked up the closest object on the table—a small decorative vase—and threw it at the mirror. The sound of shattering glass was deafening, the sharp cracks echoing through the room. My breath came in shallow gasps as I stood there, staring at the broken shards scattered across the floor. It was like the pieces of my life, shattered in front of me. The life I had built in my head with Alexander.
I sank to my knees, hands shaking, trying to make sense of everything.
And then my hand moved instinctively to my belly. I had almost forgotten it was there, the child growing inside me. The child that had no place in my life anymore. No place in the world I had planned for myself. I couldn't afford this. I couldn't raise a child in a world that felt so broken.
The tears started again, but this time, they weren't just for the man who had lied to me. They were for the baby. The innocent life inside me that had no say in any of this. I wasn't ready to be a mother, not like this. Not when everything had already gone wrong.
I needed to confront Alexander. He had lied to me. He had lied about his marriage, about his past, about everything. He had manipulated me, made me think that I was the one he wanted, when in reality, I was just another chapter in his string of lies.
With trembling hands, I reached for my phone. I opened up the contact list and hovered over Alexander's name, but something stopped me. I stared at the screen for a moment, unsure of what I was about to do. Would it change anything? Would it make the pain go away? Probably not. But I had to know. I had to hear the truth from him.
I wanted to call him, but I stopped. No, a face to face confrontation was best now. Yes that was best now.
I walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed my car keys. My mind was already made up. I wasn't going to sit around and wait for him to come to me. I wasn't going to let him hide behind his work and his lies any longer. I was going to confront him.
I pulled open the drawer where I kept my wallet, slipping in my ID and some cash just in case. I needed to do this. For me. For the baby.
I stared at the keys for a moment longer, as if they were the only thing anchoring me to this moment of clarity. Then I shook off the fear that had been creeping in. I wasn't afraid anymore.
This had gone on long enough.
I stepped out of the apartment and locked the door behind me. The hallway felt long, the silence stretching out before me, but I didn't care. I had no intention of letting him get away with it.
The drive to his office felt like a blur. I wasn't sure what I would say when I got there, but the idea of seeing him in person, finally confronting him about everything, gave me a strange sense of resolve. I had to know what was going on. I had to get the answers that had been hanging over my head for so long.
As I drove, the city lights blurred outside the window, and I couldn't help but wonder if everything had been a mistake. Had I wasted months of my life on a lie? And worse—had I let him manipulate me into thinking I was special?
The answer came to me as I neared his office building. It didn't matter anymore.
I parked the car and sat in the driver's seat for a moment, staring at the entrance to his company. The idea of walking into that building, of confronting him in front of his colleagues, made my stomach churn. But I wasn't backing down now.
I grabbed my purse, taking one last deep breath before stepping out of the car. The air felt thick with tension, the night dark and still, as if the world were holding its breath for what was about to happen.
With shaky hands, I made my way to the entrance of his building, ready to confront the man who had turned my life upside down.