Betrayal in Anniversary

My mind wandered back to when I was eighteen. My dad and I had been trapped in a cellar after being kidnapped. The day we managed to escape, he was stabbed eight times trying to protect me and died right in front of me. The guilt was overwhelming, and since then, confined, dark spaces have terrified me. I've developed severe claustrophobia, and sometimes it's more than I can handle.

I first met Imran at an equestrian academy. During a power outage, I got stuck in a changing room. As panic set in, I was alone in that cramped space, crying desperately. I will never forget how he arrived just in time, gently holding my trembling hands and calming my frantic nerves. Later, Imran became my psychologist, a constant presence guiding me out of the darkness. Gradually, I overcame my psychological barriers and returned to a semblance of normal life. Our daily interactions blossomed into love.

Imran once promised that he would never let me be alone in the dark again. But today, faced with a terrifying, pitch-black environment, he released my hand without a second thought and rushed to Haley, ignoring my tearful cries of fear. Whenever I think of struggling to breathe in that confined room, cold sweat washes over me. I took a deep breath, trying hard not to dwell on those painful memories. My voice trembled slightly as I replied, “Yes, without you, I was terrified.”

Imran brushed my back lightly. I expected comforting words, but instead, he said, "That was a long time ago. Don't embarrass yourself like this again." I looked up, stunned, meeting his gaze. The disdain was clear. In that moment, I realized the man who once stayed with me during dark nights, comforting me and making me feel safe, was gone. The current Imran dismissed my suffering, seeing only my weakness.

With that, Imran answered a call and left to help his beloved Haley. Before leaving, he pretended to be concerned, reminding me to eat something. As soon as he stepped out, I tossed the takeout box straight into the trash, along with our decaying relationship.

Half an hour later, I went downstairs to pick up a new takeout order. Passing by the ground-floor hot tub, I glimpsed a couple playing in the water. It was Haley and Imran, and from a distance, their closeness was clear. Haley, in a swimsuit, leaned against Imran, saying playfully, "Thanks for spending the day with me, Imran."

Imran leaned in to give her a tender kiss. “As long as you’re happy. A joyful mood helps with your recovery. Are your feet still sore from walking today? Let me give you another massage.”

Then, he suddenly noticed me, and his smile froze. Sensing his gaze, Haley turned and waved. “Hey Clare, how are you? Want to join us in the hot tub?” I shook my head, expressionless. “I’m fine, no thanks.”

Perhaps feeling guilty, Imran glared at me, his voice tense, “Haley is tired from our day out, so I brought her here to relax! Do you really think I’d need to be followed?” In the past, I would argue with him over his closeness with other women. Whenever I questioned him, he’d accuse me of being paranoid, not trusting him. I’d always end up apologizing. But now, I felt nothing—no anger remained in my heart.

“I wasn’t following you. I came down to get my takeout and happened to pass by,” I said, handing him the bag from the food delivery service. “And I picked up this for you too.” On this trip, I had put his phone number on my takeout orders.

Taking the bag from me, a flicker of discomfort appeared in Imran’s eyes. With a sheepish grin, he explained, “Haley suddenly had stomach pain, so I ordered some meds for her.” I didn’t question him about the order, even though the receipt listed contraceptives. I simply responded with a "Fine," then turned and went back to my room.

Imran seemed a bit surprised watching me walk away, perhaps because I’d never shown him this kind of indifferent calmness before. Next to him, Haley stretched her foot out towards him. “Let’s continue, Imran.” As he resumed massaging her, their laughter echoed dimly behind me.