Saturday morning arrived with the kind of crisp clarity that precedes significant events. Emily could feel the tension coiling in her stomach as she made her way to the airport. She had debated whether to confront Daniel at the gate or let him board the flight, stewing in his deception. But Emily was practical; she knew that seeing his face, witnessing his betrayal firsthand, would provide the closure she desperately needed.
The terminal was bustling with travelers, each preoccupied with their own journeys. Emily watched from a distance as Daniel and Sofia arrived, arm in arm, a picture of carefree indulgence. It was almost surreal to see him so at ease, so oblivious to the storm brewing just a few feet away. Emily stayed out of sight, ensuring her presence remained unnoticed.
