Chapter 3
After Caspian left, I took down the only thing we ever truly owned together–our wedding photo.
Seven years of marriage, just one stupid picture.. How fucking pathetic.
In the picture, the groom’s smile was stiff, standing inches apart from the bride.
It had taken the photographer at least ten tries to get this shot.
I still remember the way the crew whispered behind our backs.
“Are we shooting a wedding or a fucking hostage situation? The groom always refuses to stand close to the bride. If he didn’t want to get married,
y the hell is he here?”
That was the only picture we had together where he even pretended to smile.
But Caspian hated it.
Every time I hung it up, he’d take it down. And I’d put it back again.
In the end, he got tired of the game and let me keep it there.
As I removed the photo from its frame, Caspian’s voice suddenly came from behind me.
“Wasn’t this your precious treasure? Finally ready to let it go?”
I turned. Caspian was leaning against the doorframe, a lit cigar between his fingers, watching me with that usual lazy smirk.
He wasn’t supposed to be home this early. Usually, at this hour, he was buried in some other woman’s
sheets.
I remembered our first year of marriage, the first time I caught him cheating at a hotel.
I had stormed into that hotel room, dragged his little whore out of bed, and slashed her face open with my nails.
Caspian had stood exactly like this–shoulder propped against the door, watching me with bored
amusement.
“Keep going, there’s another waiting in line…”
Back then, I was terrified of this version of Caspian–no matter what I did, he always acted like a detached
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Chapter 3
spectator. Like I was just some circus act for his entertainment.
But now I didn’t care anymore.
I ignored him, pulling a few clothes from the closet and tossing them into my suitcase.
Caspian couldn’t stand still anymore and grabbed my arm.
“Where the hell are you going?”
There was a barely detectable panic in his voice.
Blood seeped through the bandage on my wrist.
“I need a break. I’m going on a trip with my friend Mervi.”
He stared at me for a moment before finally letting go.
That night, Caspian moved his things from the living room back to our bedroom, claiming it was to make up for hurting me.
I grabbed his pillows and blankets and threw them out the door.
“Go fuck your mistress. I don’t need your goddamn sympathy!”
Caspian’s face darkened, his lips twisting into a cold smirk.
“Loviisa, can you stop now? You’re not pissed about the cheating. You’re pissed that I never touched you, aren’t you?”
And then, before I could react–he shoved me onto the bed, his hand already sliding beneath my nightgown.
SLAP-
“You fucking asshole! Get your hands off me!”
The scent of cheap perfume and whiskey clung to him, making my stomach turn.
Caspian punched the pillow beside my head.
“Fine! But don’t come crawling back when you regret this, Loviisa!”
He got up and slammed the door on his way out.
Later that night, Caspian brought Sherry back again.
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Half–asleep, I heard it–the ragged breath of a man mixed with the breathy whimpers of a woman.
The study shared a wall with our bedroom.
Caspian was doing this on purpose–punishing me in the cruelest way possible.
He never used to bring them home overnight.
I got up, walking toward the half–open study door.
I stood in the doorway and saw their naked bodies entangled together.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, his fingers digging into her hips as he moved. Her lipstick was smeared across his neck and chest.
Sherry moaned, her head thrown back, fingers clutching at his shoulders.
Caspian’s gaze lifted, meeting mine across the room.
Seeing my calm expression, he became furious with embarrassment and hurled a pillow at me.
“Get the fuck out!”
As I closed the study door, I still felt a sharp stab in my heart.
I grabbed my suitcase and headed for Mervi’s place.
Two more days, I’ll leave forever.
It was finally ending.
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