He betrayed me, so I left him

Dante’s company was located right in the city center. I put on an ivory trench coat, slipped into my stiletto heels, and walked into the tall building. The security guard at the entrance bowed politely, as if nothing had changed. I smiled back, though only I knew I was no longer the woman who cleaned up his messes and covered his betrayals. The receptionist stood up the moment she saw me. “Mrs. Giselle, Mr. Dante is in the conference room.” “Mrs.?” I repeated softly, smiling faintly. “From now on, call me Miss Giselle.” She froze, speechless. I walked toward the conference room and pushed open the heavy glass door. The men inside immediately rose to greet me except him. Dante looked up, a faint frown forming between his brows. “What are you doing here?” He still carried that calm, detached expression, the same one he wore even when I had given up the world for him. I approached the table and placed the folder gently before him. “This is the anniversary gift I prepared for you.” His eyes flicked over the papers, and in that instant, his posture stiffened. The words Divorce Agreement cut through his composure like a blade. “Giselle,” he said quietly, anger creeping into his voice for the first time, “do you even know what you’re doing?” “I know very well.” I looked straight at him, my tone calm. “I’m doing what you didn’t have the courage to do six years ago letting go.” Lyra’s perfume drifted into the room, sweet and suffocatingly ironic. She walked in holding a folder, perfectly composed. When her eyes fell on the document on the table, her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. I turned around and walked away without a pause. Behind me, Dante’s voice grew low and urgent. “Giselle, don’t go!” I didn’t look back. The wind slipped through the open door, lifting a strand of my hair. I said softly, “This time, it’s my turn to leave you.” I thought he would sign the papers immediately. But when I left them on his desk and walked out, he didn’t say a word. The next morning, sunlight filtered into the bedroom. The other side of the bed was empty; as always, he had risen early, impeccably dressed, as though nothing had happened. Breakfast was still neatly arranged on the table, and beside it lay his handwritten note: Don’t forget the reunion tonight. I stared at the words and couldn’t help but laugh. His handwriting was elegant and steady now it looked like pure mockery. He had read the divorce papers, yet chose to pretend they didn’t exist. To him, my calmness was nothing more than another fleeting mood swing. He thought I would forgive him again, just like all the times before. I didn’t tear up the note. I folded it carefully and slipped it into my bag. It would be my last ritual in watching love collapse. That evening, the reunion was held in a private suite atop the Champs-Élysées Hotel. I hadn’t planned to go, but I thought once I left this time, I might never return. Seeing everyone again would be my farewell. Dante insisted on accompanying me. I refused, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, continuing his flawless performance as the “attentive husband.” The moment we entered, laughter filled the room. “I told you, if Giselle comes, Dante won’t be far behind!” “He’s afraid she might get lost!” The room burst into teasing laughter. Dante smiled with his usual grace, pulled out a chair for me, and began distributing the gifts he had prepared for everyone.

It was a full set of limited-edition jewelry from Chanelixue Nai, worth seven figures. “My God, your wife is really lucky to have you!” “With such a devoted husband, who wouldn’t be jealous?” I only smiled faintly. I’d seen this scene too many times he was always so good at making others believe in love. He knew exactly how to show the world the image of a perfect marriage, but somehow forgot that I, too, once needed to believe in it. The room was filled with laughter when the door suddenly opened. A tall, radiant figure appeared under the lights, glittering with jewels. Lyra. Her smile was familiar, sweet, and suffocating. “How could a reunion be complete without me? After all, we’re all part of the same circle.” The air froze instantly. I could hear classmates whispering under their breath. She pretended not to notice the awkwardness and gracefully took the seat across from me, her gaze sweeping over the jewelry in everyone’s hands. “Chanelixue Nai quite a famous brand,” she said with a curved smile. “But perhaps you don’t know I’m the founder.” I froze, my fingertips tightening. She founded it? A few years ago, her family had nearly been expelled from the industry for financial fraud. And now she dared to declare herself the owner of an international brand? She went on casually, “Two years ago, my husband invested in more than twenty companies under my name. One of them, luckily, turned out to be Chanelixue Nai.” As she spoke, her eyes flicked toward Dante, her lips still curved in that calm, knowing smile. It wasn’t provocation it was certainty. A dull ache spread through my chest. Two years ago, he really had been busy. He told me he was ‘expanding into overseas markets,’ and I believed him. So that was what he was busy with not business, but building her dreams. “What’s wrong, Giselle?” Dante noticed my pale face and immediately reached out to steady me. “Are you feeling unwell? Should I call a doctor?” Lyra let out a quiet laugh, her tone dripping with mockery. “Giselle, you’re so delicate. Mr. Dante treats you like glass, yet you still look half-dead. How pathetic.” Before anyone could react Slap! The sharp sound cut through the air. Everyone froze. Dante had struck her across the face. His voice was cold as steel. “Say one more word, and get out.” Lyra covered her cheek, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. Then she gave a short, disdainful laugh and turned to leave. After she was gone, the tension in the room slowly eased. Laughter returned, one cautious chuckle at a time. But I couldn’t bring myself to laugh. I looked at Dante’s face the face of a man seemingly protecting his wife and felt nothing but strangeness. He gripped my hand tightly, his voice full of concern. “Darling, what’s wrong? The doctor’s on the way.” “I’m fine.” I gently pulled my hand free. “I just need to use the restroom.” The hallway lights were bright. Halfway down, she appeared. Lyra leaned against the wall, her red lips curving into a smirk. “Don’t think he hit me for you that doesn’t mean you’ve won.” I stopped and met her gaze coolly. Her smile deepened. “I’ve given him twins. Do you believe me when I say, if I call and tell him one of them has a fever, he’ll leave you right away?” I didn’t answer. I simply turned and walked away.

When I returned to the private room, his face was exactly as I had expected filled with anxiety. He was on the phone, and the moment he hung up, his expression changed. “Darling, something urgent came up at the office. You stay and enjoy the evening. I’ve already spoken to the manager.” “Dante,” I looked at him, “didn’t you say you’d stay with me tonight? Please, don’t go.” He frowned, his gaze flickering, as though torn between two worlds. I could see the hesitation in his eyes. He looked at me once more, then slowly pried my fingers off his sleeve, one by one. “I’ll come back tonight, I promise. All right?” I nodded and smiled. But even I could feel how cold that smile was. Half an hour later, my phone lit up. It was a video from Lyra. I stared at the screen for a few seconds before pressing play. In the video, tears streamed down her face as she spoke in a fragile voice. “I just miss you so much. Seeing you with her, so loving, it drives me insane with jealousy. It’s my fault, please don’t be mad, okay?” Dante sat beside her, his expression gentle. He held a warm egg to her reddened cheek, his voice low and tender. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry, whatever you want, I’ll make it up to you.” “Then… the twins’ birthday is coming up,” she said softly, “I want that new island you bought can we give it to them as a present?” He was silent for a moment, then nodded. At the end of the video, she lifted her head and smiled at the camera a sweet smile that chilled me to the bone. “See? Even what he promised you, as long as I ask, he’ll still give it to me. Giselle, you’ve lost.” I stared at the screen, the emptiness in my chest spreading wider and wider. So he could be gentle just not with me. And that, I realized, was what hurt the most. The worst part of love isn’t the betrayal itself, but the calm tenderness of the one betraying you. Outside, the neon lights blurred before my eyes. I switched my phone to silent and slowly stood up. Perhaps after tonight, I really should leave this country. Some people aren’t worth waiting a lifetime for. And I finally understood that. After that reunion, I thought Dante might at least notice something was wrong. But he didn’t. He continued as always gentle to others, distant to me. And Lyra’s shadow appeared in his office almost every day. That morning, I went to the company to sign my final transfer documents. The moment I stepped into the meeting room, Lyra suddenly let out a sharp cry, clutching her stomach before collapsing onto the floor, striking the edge of the coffee table. “Lyra!” Dante rushed to her instantly. He hadn’t even taken off his jacket when he scooped her into his arms. “Call a doctor!” His voice was low, filled with a panic I had never heard from him before. I stood frozen as my colleagues rushed out in alarm, the room erupting into chaos. For a moment, I thought she was truly hurt. But just before she fell, I had caught it the faintest trace of a smile at the corner of her lips. It lasted less than a second, yet it was enough to freeze my heart. Half an hour later, she was carried out on a stretcher to the hospital. I had just stepped into the hallway when Dante’s cold voice sounded behind me. “What did you do?”

I turned around and saw his face twisted in fury. “You pushed her, didn’t you?!” “I…” I hadn’t even finished explaining before his palm struck my face. “Dante, you hit me?” My voice trembled, hoarse and disbelieving. “If anything happens to Lyra, I’ll hit you harder next time!” His voice was sharp and cold as a blade. He brushed past me and ran toward the ambulance. He carried Lyra in his arms as if she were a bride. That sight pierced my heart like a needle, deeper with every breath. He didn’t even look back. I chased him to the parking lot, reaching for the passenger door, but he slammed on the gas. The tires screeched against the pavement, the gust of air knocking my hand away and nearly sending me to the ground. Colleagues downstairs stared, whispering to one another. Their gazes hurt more than the slap. I hailed a cab home. The city lights flashed past the window, but all I could think was one thing: He doesn’t believe me. When I got home, I began packing my suitcase. I had thought that if he was willing to hear me out, maybe I could still try to save this marriage. But now I knew clearly he was already gone. I folded the last piece of clothing, and before I could close the suitcase, the door burst open. Dante stormed in, his face dark with anger. “Come with me.” “Where?” I asked coldly. He didn’t answer. He just grabbed my arm roughly. “To the hospital. Lyra needs a blood transfusion because of you.” “Because of me?” I laughed, my voice shaking. “She fell on her own!” “Don’t lie!” he roared. “Her blood type is rare, the emergency room doesn’t have a match. You’re O-type she needs your blood.” “But I…” “I don’t want to hear it!” He shoved me toward the door. I stumbled, catching myself against the frame. “Dante, how can you not believe me but believe her?” “Everyone heard her scream!” he shouted. “Your jealousy almost got someone killed!” He didn’t look at me again, dragging me all the way to the car. I was half-pushed, half-dragged into the hospital. I wanted to resist, but against his strength, I was helpless. The emergency room smelled of disinfectant. Lyra lay on the bed, pale as a paper flower. When she saw me, the corner of her mouth lifted slightly. “Doctor, her blood type is O-positive,” Dante said, his voice almost pleading. “Please, help her.” The doctor nodded. “We’ll need the wife to sign a consent form.” Before I could react, Dante snatched the pen from the tray. “I’ll sign.” He wrote his name quickly. I opened my mouth to protest, but the nurse had already pressed me into the chair. The needle slid into my arm, cold liquid flowing through my veins. Dizziness hit me like a wave, and the world went dark. When I woke, the ceiling above me was a blinding white. I tried to sit up, but pain throbbed through my head. The door opened, and Dante walked in, his expression emotionless. “You’re lucky,” he said flatly. “Lyra’s going to be fine.” I let out a short laugh. “How fortunate for me.” “Don’t be sarcastic,” he said coldly. “You only gave a bit of blood. It’s not like you lost a limb.” “Don’t you even care how I am?” I asked quietly. He adjusted his cufflinks, his tone icy. “The doctor said you’re fine. Stop acting pitiful.” His words cut deeper than any wound, slicing through the last of my illusions. As he turned to leave, the doctor stepped into the room.

“Mr. Dante, you’re her husband, correct?” He didn’t even look at me. “I don’t have such a vicious wife,” he said coolly. Then he turned and walked out. I stared at the door, the whole world swaying around me. The doctor sighed. “Madam, there’s something I need to tell you. You… were one month pregnant.” I froze, my throat tightening. “But you’ve miscarried.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Why… did I miscarry?” “Because your body was already weak during the transfusion,” the doctor said softly. “And your husband signed the consent form allowing the blood to be drawn.” My whole body went rigid. “He knew I was pregnant?” The doctor nodded. “Yes, he knew.” For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat slow, painful, and trembling. I tore out the IV and stumbled out of bed. The doctor rushed after me. “Miss Giselle, you’ve lost too much blood!” “Where is he?” I demanded through clenched teeth. He hesitated, then pointed to the room next door. I pushed the door open. Dante was sitting beside Lyra, gently helping her drink water, his expression unbearably tender. “You bastard!” My voice ripped through the air. He looked up, frowning. “What are you hysterical about now?” I strode forward and slapped him hard across the face. “You killed our child!” Lyra’s eyes flickered, and the corner of her lips curved into a faint smile. “Child? You were pregnant?” she asked softly. “Shut up!” I screamed. “Enough!” Dante stepped protectively in front of her and shoved me backward. I fell to the floor, pain shooting through my abdomen as blood streamed down my legs. “You… you signed to drain my blood when I was carrying our child? For her?” “She almost died!” he snapped. “I couldn’t just stand there and watch!” A bitter laugh escaped me, tears sliding down my cheeks. “And our baby? Didn’t it deserve to live?” “Maybe this is karma,” he said coldly. “A jealous woman doesn’t deserve to be a mother.” I stood frozen, as if plunged into ice. Lyra held his arm gently and whispered, “Don’t say that, it’s my fault…” I looked at them and finally understood. I was never the exception in his life only the sacrifice in his love story. I forced myself to stand, trembling, and wiped my tears. “You’ll regret this,” I said quietly, my voice so calm it scared even me. Two days later, I was discharged from the hospital. He never came. The house was empty, the air cold and hollow. On the table lay an envelope from the lawyer the divorce papers. I signed my name, my hand steady, almost too steady. I once believed love could redeem a person, but now I know love can kill, too. I packed my bags and closed the door behind me. The house felt like a tomb. When the plane lifted into the sky, I watched the city lights shrink into the distance. I knew the woman named Giselle was dead. And I would return, under a new name, to reclaim everything for my child, and for myself.