After My Boyfriend Joined a Scandalous Party

In the end, I didn't apologize. Sonia kept complaining about her pain, so Anthony had no choice but to focus on her.

Watching them leave, I remembered I had to visit the hospital too. I'd been struggling with insomnia, relying on sleeping pills just to get through the nights.

After picking up my prescription from a private clinic, I walked out and spotted Anthony carrying Sonia on his back.

"Look at her boyfriend," some passersby murmured, their voices tinged with envy.

Sonia shyly buried her face in Anthony's shoulder. "Put me down, Tony. I'm fine…"

Anthony's tone was filled with affection. "Sonia, you're hurt."

I wasn't surprised to see them; it was the closest clinic to our home.

We crossed paths downstairs. When Anthony saw me, he frowned. "Why are you here? Are you stalking me?"

I raised the sleeping pills in my hand. His expression softened. "Insomnia isn't a disease. Stop taking that stuff."

Sonia muttered something about her pain, and I turned to leave.

Cars zipped by on the street when, suddenly, a vehicle lost control and crashed into a streetlight.

Sparks flickered, and the lights on the entire street dimmed, plunging the area into darkness.

Panic rippled through the crowd. I crouched down, trembling. The dark had always terrified me.

Anthony seemed to remember this.

"Celine, are you okay?" he asked. "Sonia, Celine is afraid of the dark. Get off first."

My voice shook as I tried to reply, but before I could, Sonia clung tighter to him, crying. "Tony, I'm scared too. Don't put me down. Please, I'm scared."

Her soft, pleading voice left Anthony no choice. He stayed with her, leaving me behind.

I felt my way to the roadside and collapsed in a corner, my body trembling uncontrollably. Sweat soaked through my clothes as I hugged my knees, whispering to myself that I would be okay.

When we used to lose power at home, Anthony would comfort me patiently, holding me close until the lights came back on. But now…

I didn't make a sound and waited in silence. It felt like hours before the lights finally returned. Shaky and exhausted, I made my way home.

When I got back, I stared blankly at the ceiling lights, still shaken.

It was much later when Anthony returned, carrying a bouquet of roses and a bottle of milk. He handed the milk to me. "Milk helps with insomnia."

He had forgotten I was allergic to milk.

I took the bottle and drank it numbly, ignoring the pain in my stomach. Looking at Anthony, I said, "Tomorrow's our anniversary. Come home for dinner."

Anthony paused, then nodded slightly before walking away.

I clutched the table for support and made my way to my room.

I wasn't much of a cook—I grew up with housekeepers—but I was decent at baking desserts, especially cheesecake.

However, for some reason, every attempt that day ended in failure. Finally, the last one turned out perfect.

I glanced at the clock. Anthony would be back soon. This was our last anniversary and my final day before leaving.

However, instead of Anthony showing up, I received a phone call.

"Sonia's illness relapsed. I'm taking her to see a psychologist," he said. His excuse was so half-hearted it made me laugh bitterly.

Moments later, I saw an update on Anthony's social media.

It was a photo of him and Sonia standing in front of a window at a seaside villa. Under the warm glow of lights, they were cutting a cake together, hand in hand.

"I'll hang up if there's nothing else," I said flatly.

"There's nothing else. Bye," Anthony replied.

I liked the post and threw my cake into the trash.

It was fine. If Anthony didn't care about me anymore, he would be happy to see me leave.

That night, I packed my things and left the house I had shared with him for seven years—empty-handed.

On my way out, I posted all the evidence of Anthony and Sonia's affair on social media. The so-called "artistic photos" were included.

I considered it my parting gift—our last anniversary present.

Before boarding my flight, I sent Anthony a final message.

Celine: [Happy last anniversary.]

I told myself it was over. I'd been blind, but not anymore.

As the plane prepared for takeoff, my phone buzzed with Anthony's call.

"Celine, have you lost your mind? How dare you post those things on social media? Delete them and apologize to Sonia right now!"

I turned off my phone and leaned back in my seat, letting his countless calls go unanswered.