The breaking point

The Turner estate, usually serene with its sprawling gardens and grand interiors, was alive with the clinking of glasses and the hum of conversation. It was the family's monthly brunch, an event Ariana both dreaded and anticipated. She stood in the kitchen, fidgeting with the hem of her pale blue dress. The color complimented her warm complexion, but she couldn't shake her growing unease.

The Turners had never fully embraced her, especially Lucas's mother, Margaret. And now, Sophia's constant presence was making things unbearable.

"Is the coffee ready, dear?" Margaret's voice broke into Ariana's thoughts. She turned to find Margaret watching her with the same critical gaze she always wore.

"Yes, it's ready," Ariana replied, forcing a polite smile.

Moments later, the sharp click of heels announced Sophia's arrival. Dressed in a sleek ivory jumpsuit that hugged her curves, she swept into the room like she belonged. Her perfect red lips curved into a bright smile.

"Sophia, darling!" Margaret exclaimed, rising to greet her with open arms. "You look stunning, as always."

"Thank you, Margaret," Sophia replied, throwing a casual glance at Ariana. "It's so lovely to see everyone together."

The warmth in her voice didn't extend to Ariana, who stood quietly by the counter, feeling like an outsider in her own home.

As everyone settled at the dining table, Sophia commanded the room effortlessly, drawing laughs and admiration from the family. Ariana sat quietly, forcing bites of food past the lump in her throat.

It wasn't long before Sophia struck the first blow. "I just admire Lucas so much," she said, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at him. "He's always so patient, even when things at home are… tense."

Ariana stiffened, her fork freezing mid-air.

Margaret's brow furrowed. "Tense? What do you mean, Sophia?"

Sophia hesitated, looking at Ariana with a look of mock concern. "Oh, I didn't mean to bring it up. It's just… I know how hard it's been for Lucas to balance work and other challenges."

The words hung in the air, heavy with insinuation.

Margaret's disapproving eyes turned to Ariana. "Is that so?"

Before Ariana could defend herself, Lucas's cold voice cut through the tension. "Let's not make this a big deal. Sophia's just being honest."

Ariana's heart sank. The betrayal in his words was a knife to her chest. The rest of the meal passed in a blur, and she excused herself as soon as she could, retreating to the garden terrace.

The cool breeze offered a fleeting comfort as she leaned against the railing, her hands trembling. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

"Ariana."

The sound of Sophia's voice made her tense. She turned to see the woman sauntering onto the terrace, her smile sharp and triumphant.

"What do you want, Sophia?" Ariana's voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried all the weight of her frustration and pain.

Sophia tilted her head, feigning concern. "I just wanted to check on you. I know how hard it must be, dealing with all this pressure."

"Don't pretend you care," Ariana snapped, her voice trembling with anger.

Sophia's smile widened. "Oh, Ariana, I don't have to pretend. Lucas sees the truth now. It's only a matter of time before he realizes who really deserves to stand by his side."

Ariana's fists clenched at her sides. "You won't win, Sophia."

Sophia leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You've already lost. You just don't know it yet."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Ariana alone with the weight of her words. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Ariana wiped her tears and straightened her shoulders.

"I won't let her destroy me," she vowed.

The weeks that followed were a blur of loneliness and rejection. Lucas grew colder with each passing day, retreating into himself or spending time with Sophia. The space between him and Ariana felt insurmountable, like a chasm that widened with every passing moment.

Desperate to save her marriage, Ariana decided to take matters into her own hands. She planned a romantic dinner, hoping to rekindle the connection they once shared.

She spent hours preparing. The dining room was transformed into an intimate oasis, with soft candlelight and fresh roses adorning the table. The aroma of roasted chicken, herbed potatoes, and a decadent chocolate dessert filled the air. She even wore the lavender gown Lucas had once said was his favorite.

When Lucas walked through the door that evening, she greeted him with a nervous smile.

"I thought we could have dinner together," she said softly. "I made all your favorites."

He barely glanced at her. "I already ate," he said dismissively, walking past her without another word.

The words hit her like a physical blow. She stood frozen in the foyer, her carefully prepared dinner growing cold on the table.

Upstairs, Lucas sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone. A message from Sophia lit up the screen.

Sophia: Did you tell Ariana you already ate? I hope she's not making things difficult for you.

Lucas sighed, typing a quick response.

Lucas: She wanted to have dinner, but I wasn't in the mood.

Sophia's reply came almost instantly.

Sophia: You deserve someone who truly understands and appreciates you.

Lucas stared at the message, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind. But he pushed it aside, justifying his actions with memories of Ariana's supposed jealousy and the arguments that had plagued their marriage.

Downstairs, Ariana sat alone at the dining table, her appetite gone. She stared at the untouched feast, tears streaming down her face.

"I can't keep doing this," she whispered to herself.

The following morning, she rose early and prepared breakfast, determined to try again. She set the table with pancakes, fresh fruit, and coffee.

When Lucas came downstairs, she greeted him with a tentative smile.

"Good morning," she said.

He nodded, his expression neutral. "Morning."

"I thought we could have breakfast together," she said, motioning to the table.

Lucas hesitated before sitting down. The silence between them was suffocating, and her attempts to engage him were met with curt replies.

"I have a meeting," he said finally, pushing back his chair.

As he left, Ariana's heart sank further. She was losing him, and she didn't know how to stop it.

---

That night, Lucas came home late, reeking of alcohol. Ariana was already in bed when he stumbled into the room.

"Lucas," she began, sitting up. "You're drunk. Go to bed."

He ignored her, sitting on the edge of the bed and fixing her with a dark, unreadable gaze.

"You know what your problem is, Ariana?" he slurred.

She braced herself, her heart pounding.

"You're cold. Distant. You push people away," he said, his words cutting deep.

"Lucas, stop," she said, her voice firm.

But he didn't stop. His hands gripped her shoulders as he whispered, "Maybe if you tried harder, I wouldn't have to look elsewhere."

Tears streamed down her face as she pushed him away. "Please, Lucas. Don't do this."

Her pleas fell on deaf ears.

When he finally released her and stumbled to the other side of the bed, Ariana sat frozen, her body trembling. She stared at the ceiling, tears streaming down her face.

In the quiet darkness, a spark of resolve ignited within her.

"This isn't over," she whispered.

If Lucas was determined to break her, she would rise stronger.