The Mafia Boss Betrayed Me

Damon stormed into their lavish home, his arrival earlier than usual startling me.

"Why are you so early?" I asked, my voice filled with confusion. After a few seconds, Damon remained silent and only did the usual thing after work.

"Did you receive my message? Did you buy me my favorite strawberry ice cream?" I asked, my eyes fixed on him.

Damon's facial expression shifted. He had always bought me ice cream after work, but since Mathilda had entered our lives, he seemed to have forgotten.

"Ice cream? It's past eight o'clock," he scoffed. "Christine, you're almost twenty-eight. Don't make me sick with your childish crap! Ice cream is for children. Besides, I'm always tired from work. Do you think I have time to buy your stupid strawberry ice cream?"

This was the first time he yelled at me and even complained about buying an ice cream.

A stunned silence fell over me. I couldn't believe he was yelling at me, complaining about something as simple as ice cream.

"You used to buy me an ice cream." I began, my voice trembling trying to hold back my tears in front of him.

"Oh, shut up, will you! I don't have time for your drama!" he shouted, storming into the bathroom.

Christine's heart sank. The once vibrant love they shared had been replaced by a chilling silence.

After 5 minutes, Damon’s cell phone lit up. I looked at it and saw a message from Mathilda.

[Damon, thank you for the strawberry ice cream! You know how much I crave it, right? One tub is too much, though. Don't you want me to get fat? Anyway, I'll just keep it in the fridge so we can have dessert if you come over.]

I bit my lip and turned my gaze towards the bathroom door. I sighed, resigning myself to the situation and did not make a fuss about it.

It seemed I had become used to his infidelity.

As if I was numb and couldn't feel anything anymore.

I sat alone on our cold and lifeless bed, my heart was torned, that it felt like it was pouring blood.

When Damon walked in, freshly showered, he noticed my luggage beside our bed but did not appear to be bothered.

"I'm going on a business trip to New York next month," he informed me, his voice cold and distant. "If you need anything, just let me know and I’ll get it for you. "

"Nah, I don't need anything. Thank you for asking," I replied, my voice devoid of mixed emotions.

I didn’t even hesitate to say that. After all, I was leaving him in a few days. What was the point of asking for anything? In the past, I would have begged to accompany him on his business trips, but this time, I remained cold and silent. Damon noticed my sudden change in behavior and his anger flared.

"What is your problem, Christine? Why do I feel like you're angry and have changed?" he demanded. "Back then, you always begged me to come with me on business trips. You always had a sad expression and told me you would miss me! Are you upset because I didn't buy you that damn strawberry ice cream? Is that what this is about? Or is it all about that incident at the office?" Damon confronted me, accusing me of overreacting.

I opened my mouth to explain, but Damon scoffed and turned away.

"You know I can't stand women being overly dramatic," he said, his voice filled with disgust and dismay. "Christine, you've changed."

I was shocked by his words. Was it really I who had changed? Or was it him?

I couldn't believe what was happening. It felt like everything had been reversed. Damon was the one who was angry, while I was the one who was being accused of being guilty and wrong.

In our years together, he had always been sweet and caring towards me. He had always made me feel special and never forgot to buy me my favorite things. And every time we argued, he had always humbled himself to apologize and make things right.

But this time, it was the opposite.

As he left the room, he tossed a note onto the bed. It was a request for a chocolate cake to be prepared for the following day.

"I need you to make me a chocolate cake," he said in a cold tone, before leaving.

I raised an eyebrow and picked up the note. For the very first time, he had stayed in his office all night and did not hear a single knock on our door.