Ghosts of Betrayal

Pulling a dusty box from the attic, a journal fell out. The first page read: 'Jane is the reason

I have to leave Sarah'—Jane is who he wrote about, and Sarah is me. The entries spoke

of Jane, a woman I'd never heard of but who seemed to occupy his every thought.

With each line, my heart pounded louder, the betrayal cutting deeper as he wrote

about leaving someone behind—me, his supposed partner. The air felt heavy as I sat surrounded

by memories that suddenly seemed like lies. Each mention of our shared anniversaries

and vacations was juxtaposed with hidden encounters and whispered promises to this stranger.

My chest tightened with disbelief when he described moments from our life through a lens of deception.