Three days. Three sleepless, indulgent, intoxicating days with Sophie. Every moment had been spent tangled in each other, lost in the heat, the hunger, the raw need that neither of us had been able to quench. But reality had a way of creeping in, even in the midst of paradise.

I had unfinished business. My things were still at Diane’s, and as much as I wanted to ignore her existence, I had to retrieve them. My phone had been vibrating incessantly for days, notification after notification. Diane’s name filled the screen, unread messages piling up. I had no intention of reading them. Nothing she had to say mattered anymore.

Standing in Sophie’s bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face, staring at my reflection. I looked different. Lighter. Freed. There was no dread pooling in my gut, no hesitation about what came next. This wasn’t about closure. It was about taking what was mine and leaving the past behind.

Sophie appeared behind me, her arms wrapping around my waist. “You sure you don’t want me to come?” she murmured against my shoulder.

I shook my head. “This is something I need to do alone.”

She kissed my bare skin, her lips lingering. “Just don’t let her drag you back into her bullshit.”

I turned, cupping her face in my hands. “Not a chance.”

With one last kiss, I left.

The drive to my old house felt surreal. Three days had passed, but it felt like another lifetime. When I pulled up to the driveway, I noticed Diane’s car still parked outside. Good. She was home. Maybe I’d finally get to see the look on her face when she realised she had lost.

I didn’t knock. This was still my house, at least for now, and I had no interest in making my presence known. The door creaked as I stepped inside. The air was thick, heavy with something I couldn’t quite place. I moved quietly through the hallway, past the pictures of us still hanging on the walls, relics of a life that no longer belonged to me.

I headed upstairs, my focus on gathering my essentials and leaving as quickly as possible. But then I heard it, a soft moan, muffled yet unmistakable. My steps faltered. The sound came again, drifting from the bedroom we had once shared.

My jaw clenched. For years, I had been the fool, the neglected husband, the one Diane barely touched. And now, three days after I walked out, she was already spreading her legs for someone else?

A dark fury burned through me. My vision tunnelled, my hands curling into fists. Without thinking, I strode toward the bedroom door and shoved it open.

Diane gasped, yanking the sheets up to cover herself. Her lover, a younger man, lean and smug, sprawled beside her with a self-satisfied grin, didn’t even bother to move. No mistaking what he had just done.

“Well, this is awkward,” he drawled.

Diane recovered quickly, her face twisting in irritation rather than guilt. “Paul, what the hell are you doing here?”

I let out a cold laugh. “What am I doing here? I came to get my stuff. But it looks like you’ve been too busy to even notice I was gone.”

She rolled her eyes, unfased. “Oh, please. Don’t act so high and mighty. You’ve been screwing Sophie for days.”

I stepped closer, my rage barely restrained. “You cut me off for years, made me feel like I was nothing to you, and now I find you like this? How long has this been going on?”

"Oh, we have been..." he trailed off, his lips curling into a slow, deliberate smirk "Long enough."

My fists clenched at my sides. "That's not an answer."

Eyes glinting with cruelty. “What does it matter? You’ve moved on. Or is your little fling not as satisfying as you thought?”

I leaned in, my voice deadly calm. “The difference, Diane, is that I didn’t betray you while we were still together.”

Her lover chuckled, clearly entertained by the drama. I shot him a look that wiped the smirk right off his face. “I’d shut up if I were you, I am fuckin veteran son, and these hands have seen some shit.”

Diane sighed, exasperated. “Paul, you were miserable. We both were. If you think I was going to wait around for you to grow a backbone and leave, you’re delusional.”

I stared at her, disbelief warring with disgust. “You know what? You’re right. I was miserable. But not anymore.”

I turned on my heel and strode to the closet, throwing open the doors and yanking my clothes off the hangers. Diane huffed behind me. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

I shot her a glare. “Dramatic? You think this is dramatic? You haven’t seen dramatic.”

I grabbed a suitcase, shoving my belongings inside with force. Every piece of clothing, every personal item I stuffed in that case felt like shedding dead weight. Diane continued to prattle on, her words a blur of justification and self-serving nonsense. I ignored her. She wasn’t worth the energy.

When I was done, I turned back to face her one last time. “You know what the saddest part of this is, Diane? I actually thought, for years, that if I just tried harder, you might want me again. Turns out, I was just wasting my time.”

She opened her mouth, but I didn’t wait to hear whatever excuse she had lined up. I walked out without another word, slamming the door behind me. 

As I stepped outside, the weight on my chest lifted. Diane was in the past. And Sophie? She was waiting for me. 

I climbed into my car, started the engine, and drove away without looking back.