Love Betrayed: A Heart's Agony

After Rosalie finished her shower, I was already in bed, waiting with the bedside lamp set to a cozy orange glow.

It was our usual way of signaling that we wanted to be close.

I didn’t actually have any specific plans. I just wanted to test her.

As expected, Rosalie, who had never turned me down before, rejected my advance without hesitation.

“Honey, it’s really late. Let’s talk about this tomorrow,” she said.

“Staying up late isn’t good for your skin. Just go to sleep,” I replied.

I looked at her and said, “Okay, let’s sleep.”

Rosalie lay down, turning her back to me.

I placed my hand gently on her slim waist.

I had wanted a child since we got married, and her parents had been urging us as well.

We had agreed earlier this year that she would start trying after the New Year.

But after Blake showed up, Rosalie changed her mind.

She said she was still young and in a critical phase of her career and having a child would be too disruptive.

I understood and even helped convince her parents to wait a few more years for a grandchild.

Looking back, I realize how naive I was.

Rosalie complained that my hand on her was as heavy as a pig’s trotter and uncomfortable.

It was a stark contrast to how she used to need me to hold her to fall asleep.

Now, it was the complete opposite.

With a heavy heart, I withdrew my hand and turned off the light, settling in for the night.

The next day, Rosalie flew off to Phuket.

For the entire three days she was away, she didn’t send a single message or make a single call.

Her social media was silent too.

But Blake’s social media was noisy.

There were pictures of blue skies, white clouds, and palm-fringed beaches.

There were surfing, diving, and beach parties.

The woman constantly by his side never fully showed her face and wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but it was unmistakably Rosalie.

After years of sharing a bed, I knew her inside out.

Yet seeing her in those photos felt oddly unfamiliar.

She seemed so relaxed with Blake, her smile wide and genuine.

I’d never seen Rosalie this happy, not even during our early romance.

It was clear who she truly loved.

Seeing those pictures gave me a brief sting, but it quickly passed.

I liked every post and then sent Rosalie a message.

[When you get back from Phuket, let’s get a divorce.]

Within ten seconds, my phone rang.

Rosalie’s voice was filled with anger.

“Eason, what the hell is this about? Why are you suddenly talking about divorce?”

“Did you lose your mind or something?”

I told her I wasn’t crazy, just that I’d given it a lot of thought.

“And what’s the reason? Give me a reason!”

I replied calmly, “Do you remember what I said to you on our wedding day?”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you’ve forgotten, then there’s no point in discussing it.”

I took a deep breath and said, “Rosalie, let’s just say I’m done with this relationship. It’s better if we part ways now.”

“Eason, are you seeing someone else?”

I was caught off guard. I never expected her, the one who had betrayed me, to think this way.

Wasn’t she the one who had strayed?

In a moment of frustration, I snapped, “Yes, I’ve moved on!”