Moving Out

It didn't take long to pack. Forty minutes, maybe less. I just grabbed whatever felt like mine and stuffed it into bags. The red dress I wore to our anniversary dinner went in last. Looking at it made me sick.

I was zipping up my bags when I heard his car again. Perfect timing.

"Sera, wait," he said as I dragged my bags to the front door.

He looked awful. No suit, no tie. Just a black shirt half-buttoned and guilt dripping from every silent breath.

"Sera…" he began.

"Don't," I cut in sharply, straightening my spine. "You said enough last night."

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said softly.

I gave a short, humorless laugh. "Then you really are as clueless as I thought."

His brow furrowed. "You think this was easy for me?"

I blinked slowly. "Easy? You think cheating on me with my best friend and getting her pregnant was supposed to be hard for you? I should pity you now?"

He took a step closer, but I raised a hand to stop him. "Don't. You don't get to play the wounded party in this."

"She listened to me. She understood what I was going through."

"What you were going through?" I had to laugh. "What exactly were you going through, Cassian? Being married to someone who loved you? Having a wife who worked hard for our future?"

"You don't understand..."

"No, I understand perfectly. She told you I was too controlling, didn't she? Too cold? That I didn't appreciate you?"

He didn't answer, which was answer enough.

"We were trying to have a baby," I said quietly. "Remember that? All those months of hoping, of crying together when it didn't happen. You held me and said it didn't matter when it happened because we had each other."

"I meant that."

He didn't answer.

"But it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it? Because while I was grieving every negative test, you were making a baby with her."

"Because somewhere along the line, you decided that my pain, the woman who lay beside you for five years, was less important than her comfort." I said, voice sharp.

I grabbed my bags headed for the door. "I don't expect you to understand how deeply you have hurt me. I don't even want an apology. I simply want you to bear in mind that I will not be the victim in this tale.

"Sera, please…"

"No," I said. "Don't call me that anymore."

He stepped toward me again. "Where are you going?"

"Away from here. Away from you."

I moved toward the door.

" "You're really not filing for divorce? "He inquired, and for the first time, there was a hint of worry in his voice.

With my hand on the doorknob, I stopped.

"No," I said. "Because if I did, I'd be setting you free. You'd get to play house with Zirelle, ride off into the sunset, pretend you earned it. But you didn't. You don't get to win."

His face paled.

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you to remember that this marriage is mine now. I'll decide when and how it ends."

And then I left.

I didn't go very far, just enough.

Miss Elda, a friend of my late mother, still possessed a peaceful seaside cottage on the shores of Ilhara Bay. I hadn't been there since my university days, but I remembered the view: ocean waves breaking against jagged rocks, wind blowing through pines like a symphony of sadness.

When I called her, crying and desperate, she just said "Come on over, honey" like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"You stay as long as you need," she said, hugging me at the door. "No questions asked."

Only the sound of the sea could soothe me as I curled up in a corner of the small guest room that evening. I also started crying uncontrollably for the first time in what seemed like years.

That first night, I finally let myself fall apart. Really fall apart. I cried until my throat was raw and my eyes were swollen shut. I cried for the baby I'd never had, for the marriage I thought was solid, for the friend who'd stabbed me in the back.

When I woke up the next morning, something had shifted. The pain was still there, but underneath it was something else. Something harder.

I began making lists.

People we knew. Business contacts. Investors. Board members. Social connections.

Cassian and I had built Wynver-Calix Group together. It wasn't just a business; it was our whole world. Our reputation, our social circle, our future.

And now, I'd use every inch of it against him.

I dug into old files, hacked into his emails, I had access to most of it still, thanks to our shared accounts. I read through transaction logs, board meeting minutes, off-shore transfers Zirelle had no business being cc'd on.

And I started keeping track.

Of secrets.

Of connections.

Of pressure points.

Cassian thought he could silence me with betrayal.

But he forgot who he married.

Three days later, Calista came to visit.

We were far too emotionally unstable to drink the bottle of wine she brought, along with flowers and comfort food.

"Are you sure you're okay here?" she questioned as we sat on the cliff behind the cottage, staring down at the frothy waves.

"I'm breathing," I answered. "That's more than I could do in that house."

She nodded. "And Cassian?"

I smiled bitterly. "Probably thinking I'll calm down and give him a clean divorce so he can move on with his life."

She scoffed. "Men always think we'll cry, crumble, then come back begging for closure."

"No," I said softly. "He'll beg. But not for closure."

Calista looked at me curiously. "You planning something?"

I looked out at the ocean, eyes narrowed.

"I'm not going to destroy him with rage," I said. "I'm going to do it with patience."

She grinned. "You scary."

"I learned from the best." I nudged her shoulder.

Her smile faded. "You ever think about telling the media? The press would eat this up."

"Not yet," I said. "Right now, all they see is the picture-perfect couple. But once the cracks start showing, I'll give them the truth. When it'll cost him the most."

"What about Zirelle?"

"What about her?"

"She's pregnant with his child. People might sympathize with her."

I smiled, but it wasn't a nice smile. "Let me tell you something about Zirelle. She's been jealous of what Cassian and I had for years. She used to make little comments about how lucky I was, how she wished she could find someone like him."

"Seriously?"

"Oh yeah. And now I know why she was so interested in our marriage problems. She wasn't being a good friend; she was gathering intelligence."

"That's sick."

"That's Zirelle. She doesn't want Cassian, not really. She wants my life. My husband, my house, my status. She's always been that way."

"So what are you going to do about her?"

"Nothing. Yet. But I've been going through old emails, old messages. You'd be amazed what people say when they think no one's paying attention."

Calista leaned forward. "You found something?"

"Oh, I found lots of things."

"You're building a case."

"I'm building several cases. Business fraud, personal betrayal, public humiliation. I want him to lose everything the same way I did."

"And if he tries to fight back?"

"With what? He's the one who cheated. He's the one who got another woman pregnant while married to me. The truth is on my side."

"You know what the funny thing is?" I said finally.

"What?"

"He actually thinks he's going to be happy. Him and Zirelle and their baby, playing house. He has no idea what he's gotten himself into."

"What do you mean?"

"Zirelle's high-maintenance. She likes expensive things, fancy restaurants, designer clothes. She's never had to worry about money because she always had someone taking care of her. But she's also never had to be someone's everything."

"And Cassian?"

"Cassian needs to be needed. He needs to feel important, respected. That's why he married me, I made him feel like a king. But Zirelle? She's going to expect him to make her feel like a queen. And when the novelty wears off, when real life kicks in with a screaming baby and sleepless nights, the gas lighting and emotional abuse..."

"They'll implode."

"They'll implode. And I'll be there to watch it happen."

"You know I'm with you, right?" Calista said. "Whatever you need."

"I know." My voice cracked, just slightly. "Thank you."

We stood there for a while longer, the sea below roaring like something wild and ancient. I had a storm inside me that matched it. And soon, I'd let it loose.

Let them have their moment of happiness. It wouldn't last long.