"It's okay, Cedric," Anya chimed in, linking her arm with his. "Maybe she just doesn't like strawberry." Her tone was sweet, but the look she gave me wasn't.
I stared at them, feeling empty inside. I met my husband's eyes, and I said, "Cedric, I'm allergic to strawberries."
The anger on his face faded, replaced by a flash of realization. As guilt must have crept inside him, he looked away.
"Astrid…" he started, but he didn't seem to know how to apologize.
"It's my fault," Anya jumped in, her eyes filling with tears. "Astrid, I just wanted to bring you something nice. Please don't blame Cedric."
"No, Anya, don't cry. This isn't your fault," Cedric quickly said, reaching to wipe Anya's tears away.
I'd had enough of the damn act.
Turning away, I headed to my room, saying, "It's late. I'm going to bed. You two can see yourselves out."
From behind the closed door, I could still hear my husband comforting that woman in a gentle voice before they left.
I glanced at our wedding photo on the wall, and just like that, I couldn't hold back the tears any longer.
I was about to drift off when Cedric finally walked into our bedroom. He'd been out dropping Anya off, and considering how late it was, they must've taken their sweet time saying goodbye.
He sat down next to me, and right away, the thick, sugary scent of some perfume—definitely not mine—hit me like a punch.
"Astrid," he said, trying to keep his voice gentle, "I was on a business trip yesterday and just happened to pass through Anya's city. We had a chance to clear up a misunderstanding, so we came back together. And about that cake—she was just being thoughtful. You really didn't need to throw it in the trash."
I slowly sat up, a bitter smile tugging at my lips as I took a good look at him. His shirt was rumpled, the collar loose, and right there, just barely visible, was a smear of lipstick.
He kept going, that soft tone almost coaxing, but every word was about Anya—defending her. It sounded like I was the villain.
It hit me then, like another punch in the gut, that the man I'd loved for so long was… gone. Or maybe he'd never really been here. It felt like I was looking at a stranger.
He noticed me pulling away and reached out, trying to wrap me in a hug, but I jerked back, instinctively pushing him away.