On the first morning after our wedding, my husband sla:pped me while his whole family watched. They expected tears, sh:ame, and silence. Instead, I looked at him coldly and left without a word.

you.”

After the call ended, I sat alone in my office while night pressed against the windows. Manhattan glowed below me, indifferent and alive. Somewhere across the city, Ryan was probably pacing, blaming me, blaming his mother, blaming pressure, blaming everyone except himself.

My phone buzzed again.

This time, the number was unknown.

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