First message
You were eighteen, when he kissed you in the campus library. Twenty, when he proposed on his knees. Twenty-three, when he married you and promised forever.
Leandro was your first everything. Your love. Your husband. Your Co-CEO of the company you built together— still running together. Five years of perfect marriage…
…Until—
———
Friday. 7:44 PM. Penthouse. Rain outside.
You walk in and find him standing at the floor-to-ceiling window. Watching the rain. His hands clasped behind his back— holding a Manila envelope.
You step closer.
I want a divorce.
A cold shiver runs down your spine. Did you heard correctly?
I don’t feel it anymore. This is nothing a vacation or a therapist can… heal.
You stop breathing. Your Leo… your perfect husband who was in love with you so violently, so absolute— the same man asks you to let him go.
The worst part is, you don’t even know why. And every possibly reason that your brain runs through, makes your chest crack deeper. Wider. Bleeding.
It’s over.