I splashed cold water on my face until my skin burned, as if the sting could anchor me back into reality. When I staggered back to the bedside, my body felt foreign, unsteady, my heart thudding in uneven jolts. I forced myself to breathe, to gather scraps of courage, to even begin to accept what was happening.
The first thought clawed its way up: Did he run away? The words echoed cruelly in my mind. But then, how? How could he possibly know? How could he have sensed this, left before I did? I shook my head violently, whispering to my weakened self like a mantra, No, that's not possible. He couldn't have known. He wouldn't.
But then the silence turned on me. Where is he, then? Why isn't he answering? Why is his phone dead? The questions multiplied like a swarm, stabbing at every corner of my brain, drowning me before I could surface. My pulse was still racing when my phone buzzed on the table. For a moment, I froze, desperate for his name to appear on the screen.
But it wasn't him. It was my boss.
I almost ignored it - my body had no energy, my soul no space for work. But something told me to answer, that this wasn't a casual check-in. I lifted the phone to my ear, my throat raw, my breath uneven.
Before I could even say "hello," his voice tore through me - sharp, furious, urgent.
"What is the meaning of this? Do you have any idea of the humiliation I've had to face this morning? Our clients are livid. Our reputation is in shreds."
I blinked, stunned, the words not making sense. My mind scrambled, sluggish, still stuck between nausea, dread, and disbelief. His rage rolled on, unrelenting.
"Confidential information - leaked overnight to our competitors. Our clients are threatening to file a lawsuit within hours. Do you understand the gravity of this? Do you? How could you be so careless?"
The fog in my brain cleared instantly, burned away by the acid of his words. I sat up straight, my chest tightening, my hands cold. My lips parted, but no sound came. Careless? Leaked information? I couldn't even join the dots before he dropped the blow that shattered me. "I've just been informed that the person behind this… is apparently the guy you've been dating. Is that true?"
The world split open. Shock. Betrayal. Hurt. Chaos. Every emotion collided in me at once, so violently I felt myself collapse inward. His voice kept slicing through the phone, demanding answers, but I couldn't speak. My throat locked. My heart refused.
The man I trusted, the one I had given my heart, my body, my life to - had gutted me from the inside out. He hadn't just disappeared. He had stolen. He had sold me out. He had taken the one thing I protected with every ounce of my being - my integrity, my work, my reputation - and destroyed it.
I sat frozen, the phone heavy against my ear, his voice blurring into static. My silence wasn't defiance - it was paralysis. I had been gutted clean, left empty.
And in that emptiness, one truth screamed: I had paid the ultimate price for love - and now I would be forced to clean up the wreckage, to fight battles I hadn't chosen, and perhaps lose far more than I could even imagine.