Where the Moon No Longer Shines

The next day, Cassandra woke with a chilling determination. If this engagement was to end, it wouldn’t be quietly. Her revenge wouldn’t come in screams or tears. No, it would be colder, more calculated.

That morning, she clung to Matthew’s arm, her eyes teary as she begged him not to leave her side.

“Can’t you stay with me today?” she whispered, her voice trembling. It was a rare moment of vulnerability and Matthew, caught off guard, softened instantly.

“Of course,” he murmured, turning off his phone to assure her of his attention.

But beneath her fragile demeanor, Cassandra was already plotting. She returned two texts to Julia while pretending to nap:

“You’ll never have Matthew. Give up before it’s too late.”

“I still love him—like the wind that travels 8,000 miles without asking for a return date.”

The lies tasted bitter on her tongue, but they served their purpose. By evening, Cassandra had set her plan into motion. Matthew, distracted by her uncharacteristic affection, had no idea what awaited him.

***

The final day arrived.

Matthew’s phone buzzed relentlessly throughout breakfast. Cassandra smiled sweetly as she reached out to hold his hand. “Ignore it,” she pleaded.

Reluctantly, he agreed, silencing the device. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to believe in her love again. But Cassandra knew better. She had seen through the lies long ago. Her revenge wasn’t just for herself—it was for every moment he had made her feel small, unwanted and replaceable.

As the day wore on, Cassandra excused herself to the garden, her mind racing with thoughts of the engagement. Her phone buzzed, this time with a damning message from Julia:

[Your precious Matthew? He told me he’d rather have no child at all than adopt one with you. Funny how he didn’t mention that to you, isn’t it?]

Cassandra’s vision blurred with rage as she remembered the doctor’s words after her accident:

“Ms. Cassandra, the damage to your reproductive organs means you may never have children.”

Matthew’s refusal to consider adoption had once seemed noble. Now, she saw it for what it was—a selfish excuse to keep her bound to his empty promises. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to cry. If Matthew had stolen her love, her pride and her future, she would make him pay in kind.

And as she stood there, surrounded by blooming flowers, Cassandra vowed that her final act would leave a scar on Matthew’s soul—one he would carry for the rest of his life.