Husband, I am Leaving for Good

I didn’t even realize I’d dozed off until the bedroom door creaked open. I flinched awake to find Troy standing there with a tray. The smell of my favorite soup—creamy chicken and wild rice—wafted across the room.

He held up the tray with that fake boyish grin that used to make my heart ache. Pathetic, I thought. The same old routine.

“Cam, you should eat something. You look so tired. All this stress about the company paperwork and the wedding… I don’t like seeing you like this.”

I forced my face to stay blank. What do you want? I wanted to scream it in his face.

Because I knew this game. It was his favorite scheme—like clockwork. Whenever he needed me to bend, whenever he wanted me pliable and sweet, he’d show up like this. A tray of warm soup. That soft, sorry look in his eyes.

I used to think it meant he loved me. I used to fall for it every single time.

Don’t be mad, Cam, I heard his voice echo from years ago—back when we were just twenty, back when I still believed he’d never betray me. Don’t be mad. Look, I brought you your favorite—come on, baby, eat. Smile for me.

And I would. Like a fool, I’d smile through my tears, swallow my hurt, forgive his betrayal—his flirty glances with Jasmine, his forgotten promises. Every bowl of soup tasted like my own stupidity.

But not anymore.

He sat beside me on the bed, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. We’re almost there, right? After the wedding, it’ll all be done. The merger will go through, and we can finally start our real life.”

The words made bile rise in my throat. “The paperwork will be ready after the wedding,” I said flatly.

He grinned. “Good. I can’t wait to make you mine forever.”

I swallowed my disgust. He didn’t want me—he wanted my name, my father’s legacy. My stomach twisted when I imagined him and Jasmine laughing about how they’d finally secured their golden ticket.

Later that afternoon, we went to the boutique to fit my wedding dress. Jasmine tagged along, of course, breezing around the silk-lined showroom like she owned it. The moment my gown was brought out, her eyes glittered with something cold and possessive.

“Let me try it on,” she said sweetly. “Just for fun. I’ve always wanted to see what I’d look like in a wedding gown.”

I gaped at her. “Are you serious? That’s my dress—”

“Oh, come on, Cam. Let her,” Troy drawled from the velvet couch, not even glancing at me. “If she wants to see how it looks, what’s the harm? You can buy another one if you want.”

I looked at him like he’d grown two heads. “It’s my dress, Troy. I’m the bride.”

Trevor, lounging beside him, shrugged. “So what? It’s just a color. Don’t be dramatic.”

I clenched my fists so tightly my nails bit into my palms. Jasmine’s eyes glittered with victory as she twirled in my gown in front of the mirrors. When she finally stepped out, leaving the fabric crumpled and reeking of her perfume, I told myself it didn’t matter. I’d never wear it anyway.

I picked another simple gown and slipped into the fitting room. The satin was soft against my skin, almost mocking in its promise of a fairytale that wasn’t real. From the other side of the door, Jasmine’s voice drifted through—sharp and low.

“When will you be gone, Camille? Are you sure you’re marrying him? You know he doesn’t want you. He’ll come back to me in the end.”

I pressed my palm to the cold wall, forcing my voice not to crack. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gone soon. You’ll get what you want.”

She laughed, a brittle, empty sound. “Good. I’m tired of pretending. You’re just in the way.”

I closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the sick twist in my chest. Then I smelled it. Smoke. Faint at first, then thicker. I pushed the door open a crack—and flames flickered along the floor-length curtain.

“Help!” I screamed. “Someone—there’s a fire—help me!”

Through the haze, I saw them. Troy, Trevor, Jasmine—standing together by the boutique door. Jasmine pressed her hand to her mouth, eyes wide. “Oh no! Camille—save her!”

But Troy just looked bored. “She’s fine. Let’s go out before you get hurt. We don’t want you to get bruises, you know how precious you are to us..”

Trevor scoffed. “And she can handle herself.”

Their shapes blurred as the smoke thickened. My throat burned. I stumbled backward, reaching for the wall, but the satin tangled around my feet. The last thing I saw before the darkness claimed me was Jasmine’s cold smile behind her perfect mask of concern.