The truth

Clara's hand trembled as she pushed the door open, and… her worst fears confirmed.

"Fuck me harder please… Aiden… " a soft moan emanated from the room. As if in response to the words, Aiden fuck her harder and harder.

Aiden's shirt unbuttoned, his arms wrapped around a woman Clara didn't recognize. They were entangled on the bed, lost in an intimate moment that shattered Clara's heart into a thousand pieces. The woman, catching sight of Clara, gasped and immediately pushed Aiden away, her face flushed with embarrassment and fear.

Aiden, following the woman's gaze, turned his head and saw Clara standing in the doorway. His eyes widened in surprise, but his demeanor remained eerily calm. He didn't flinch or look away. Instead, he casually began buttoning his shirt, as if this were just another ordinary day.

"You're home early," he said, his voice steady, almost indifferent. "What's the occasion?"

Clara stared at him, her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't believe what she was seeing—what she was hearing.

How could he be so composed?

How could he act as though nothing had happened?

Her mind raced, searching for some sign of remorse in his eyes, but there was none. Only a cold, detached calmness that made her stomach churn.

"Aiden…" she whispered, her voice breaking. "How could you?"

For a moment, there was silence. Aiden finished buttoning his shirt and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He glanced at the woman, who was now hastily gathering her things, and gestured for her to leave. She didn't need to be told twice; she scurried out of the room, avoiding Clara's gaze.

Once they were alone, Aiden leaned against the bedpost, his arms crossed. He looked at Clara with an expression she couldn't quite place—part amusement, part resignation.

"I suppose there's no point in hiding it now," he said, his tone almost casual. "You were bound to find out eventually."

Clara's heart pounded in her chest. "Find out what? That you've been cheating on me? That your promises have been a lie?"

Aiden shrugged, as if her words were nothing more than an inconvenience. "It's not that simple, Clara. You see, I never really loved you. Not in the way you thought."

Her breath hitched. "What are you talking about?"

He sighed, as though explaining something obvious to a child. "When I first pursued you, it wasn't because I was genuinely interested. It was because you were the one my brother wanted. He talked about you all the time—how kind you were, how beautiful, how perfect. I couldn't resist the challenge. I wanted to see if I could take you away from him."

Clara felt as though the ground had been ripped out from under her. "You… you only pursued me because of your brother?"

Aiden nodded, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Exactly. And to my surprise, you fell for it so easily. You were so eager to believe in the fairy tale I sold you. But honestly, Clara, it got boring fast. You're too predictable, too… ordinary. And lately, you've been suffocating me with your constant need for attention. It's exhausting."

Tears streamed down Clara's face, but she refused to let her voice waver. "So all this time, you've just been pretending? Our loves, our life together—it was all a game to you?"

Aiden's smirk widened. "Pretty much. And now that you've caught me, I don't have to keep up the act anymore. It's a relief, really."

Clara's hands clenched into fists at her sides. She had always known Aiden had a playful, sometimes childish side, but she never imagined he could be so cruel. "You're a monster," she said, her voice trembling with anger and hurt.

Aiden chuckled, unfazed. "Maybe. But you're the one who fell for it. So tell me, Clara, what does that say about you?"

For a moment, Clara was speechless. The man she had loved, the man she had built a life with, was nothing more than a facade. And now, standing before her, was the truth—cold, unfeeling, and utterly devoid of remorse.

She took a deep breath, her strong will rising to the surface. "It says I made a mistake," she said, her voice steady now. "But I won't make another one. We're done, Aiden. I deserve better than this—better than you."

Aiden's smirk faltered, just for a moment. But before he could respond, Clara turned on her heel and walked out of the room, her head held high. She didn't look back. She didn't need to.

As she stood outside, the cool night air brushing against her skin, Clara felt a strange sense of clarity. She had been a fool to think that Aiden could change, that a man like him could ever truly love her. He was a playboy, through and through, and she had been naive to believe otherwise.

The worst part wasn't the betrayal—it was the realization that she had started to care for him. Somewhere along the way, she had let her guard down, allowing herself to believe that their marriage could be something real. And now, faced with the truth, she felt a mix of anger, hurt, and regret.

But there was also a flicker of relief. She had caught herself before it was too late, before she fell any deeper. Her feelings for Aiden were still manageable, still something she could walk away from. And that's exactly what she intended to do.

The next morning, Clara packed her things. She didn't leave a note, didn't bother with explanations. Aiden had made his choices, and now she was making hers. As she walked out the door, she felt a strange sense of freedom, a weight lifting off her shoulders.

She didn't know what the future held, but she knew one thing for certain: she wasn't going to let Aiden—or anyone else—define her worth.

As she drove away, Clara allowed herself a small, bitter smile. She had learned a hard lesson, but it was one she wouldn't forget. And as she looked ahead, she felt a flicker of hope. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but she was ready to face it—on her own terms.