"This... this is cruel," she finally muttered.
"Cruel," I echoed. "What's cruel is watching your wife lie to your face while she kisses another man's neck in hotel elevators. What's cruel is not knowing whether those nights she came home smelling like sandalwood and wine were because she was having a drink with her friend or screwing someone else. Cruel is pretending like you don't see it because you're afraid of what the truth might shatter."
She looked down, her shoulders folding inward.
I continued, my voice steady. "But now... now I know. And now you get to feel what it's like to be the one left wondering."
She tried again. "I messed up, Leo. I know that. I panicked. You were always working and I—"
"Stop," I said sharply. "Don't you dare justify it. You didn't just mess up. You built a life around your betrayal. You lied for over a year. You made me believe we were trying for a baby while planning spa weekends with him."
Her eyes welled up, but I didn't care anymore. Her tears were currency she'd already spent on someone else.
"Leave," I said. "We're done."
But she didn't move. Instead, she sat on the edge of the couch like she was trying to reclaim a spot that no longer belonged to her.
"I've lost everything. My friends, my reputation—they know. Charlotte posted everything on social media. My inbox is full of people calling me a liar and a homewrecker."
I didn't respond. I wouldn't comfort her. I wasn't her husband anymore; I was a reckoning.
She cried harder now. "I can't go back to my job, Leo. They saw it. My former boss emailed me and told me not to bother reapplying. He said it's a bad look for the firm."