They say love is about sacrifice. About lifting each other up, weathering storms together, and believing in someone even when they don't believe in themselves. I did all that and more... for him. But love, I learned, is also about knowing when you've been played...

The memory of our early days together still flashes through my mind. My husband Jake hunched over textbooks at our tiny kitchen table, dark circles under his eyes, and the weight of med school crushing him.

"Gabby, I don't know if I can do this anymore," he said one night, his voice cracking. "The tuition just went up again."

I set down my coffee, walked over, and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. "We'll figure it out. I got that promotion, remember? We're a team."

"I'll pay you back someday," he promised, squeezing my hand. "Every penny."

"That's what marriage is," I replied. "Supporting each other's dreams."

Little did I know those words would come back to haunt us both.

For four years, I worked overtime, picked up weekend shifts, and postponed my own career aspirations. I paid for Jake's tuition, our rent, groceries, his textbooks... everything. I believed in my husband. I believed in us.

"One day, we'll look back at these struggling years and laugh," I told him as I handed over my credit card for yet another semester's tuition payment.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," Jake said, kissing my forehead. "I couldn't do this without you."

"We're building something together," I said.

"Yeah, we are," he said, though his smile never reached his eyes.

The day of Jake's graduation arrived, and I was determined to make it special. Our apartment transformed under my hands — streamers in his university colors, his favorite lasagna in the oven, and a bottle of champagne.

The congratulatory cake had taken me three tries to get it right.

I smoothed down my new dress — navy blue, elegant, and something I'd saved for months to afford. I gave myself a final look in the mirror, and my heart swelled with pride. We had made it.

"Are you ready to watch your husband become a doctor?" I asked my reflection, practicing my smile.

The ceremony was packed. I clutched the bouquet, searching the rows of identical caps and gowns for Jake.

"Jake," the dean announced, and my heart soared. I stood, clapping until my palms stung.

Then, three rows ahead, a woman in a skin-tight red dress jumped to her feet, screaming his name. I froze, my hands still mid-clap.

Jake looked directly at her from the stage, and his face transformed into a grin I hadn't seen in years. And then... he blew her a kiss.

My bouquet slipped from my fingers, hitting the floor with a soft thud that no one heard.

"Who is that?" the woman next to me asked her husband.

"Must be his girlfriend," he replied.

The world narrowed to a pinpoint. The woman in red pushed past annoyed family members and rushed toward the stage exit.

Jake had barely stepped off when she launched herself at him. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he spun her, both of them laughing like they were the only people in the room.

"What the HELL, Jake?" My voice sounded foreign even to my own ears.

He turned, still holding her, his smile fading slightly when he saw me.

"Gabby... Hey."

The woman slid down, keeping her arm looped possessively through his.

"What the hell is this?" I hissed, conscious of the families celebrating around us.

Jake's expression shifted... not to guilt or shame, but to something worse. Annoyance, tinged with pity.

"This is Sophie," he said, not bothering to introduce me to her. "Look, I was going to tell you after the ceremony, but I guess now works too."

"Tell me what?" My voice was steel, though my insides felt like water.

He sighed, as if I was being difficult. "You and I are in different places now, Gabby. We deserve different things. And you... you're not good enough for me anymore."

I stared at him, this stranger wearing my husband's face. "Different places? We've been in the same apartment for four years... the one I pay for."

Sophie's perfectly arched eyebrows rose slightly.

Jake's jaw tightened. "That's exactly what I mean. You're stuck in that mentality... counting dollars, working those dead-end jobs. I'm about to start my residency at the hospital downtown. I need someone who understands the world I'm entering."

"The world you're entering?" I repeated. "The one I funded?"

"You always did have a way of making everything transactional," he said with a small, sad shake of his head. "Sophie gets me. She's going places too... her father's on the hospital board."

Sophie smiled, tight-lipped. "Jake's told me so much about you. You've been... supportive."

I looked at her—this young, polished, and gorgeous homewrecker who had probably never worked a double shift in her life.

"So while I was supporting him, I was good enough," I said, my voice rising despite my efforts to control it. "But now that you've got your degree and your connected girlfriend, suddenly I'm what? Beneath you?"

Jake had the audacity to look relieved that I understood.