Daniel, always quick to mask his intentions, shifted the conversation to logistics. “We need to discuss the financial implications of your recovery,” he said coldly, as if discussing a business transaction. Sofia stood awkwardly beside him, her eyes flicking between us, caught in a game she hadn’t signed up for.

I realized then that Daniel had never truly seen me—not the real me. It was my company, my ambitions, my dreams he had dismissed all those years, and yet, here he was, parading a new wife without a second thought, as if I were merely an inconvenience to be managed.