I'll Leave When You Stop Loving Me

The door slammed behind me as I jumped out of my black Chevrolet.

Today was supposed to be perfect.

Today was supposed to be ours.

I tightened the balloons in one hand, the gift bags digging into my arm. I had been planning this for months, dreaming about the look on his face when he saw me.

It was our two-year wedding anniversary.

I smoothed my silk white dress, packed my hair into a slick bun just the way he loved it, and stared up at the giant building in front of me.

Aura Modeling.

The most luxurious modeling agency in all of New York.

The place smelled like money.

Old money.

The floors outside blazed under the hot sun, the gold letters on the building flashing like treasure.

Aura wasn't just a building.

It was an empire.

It was my Damien's dreams.

Of course, I was there, helping him bring his dreams to reality.

I stepped inside.

A cool breeze kissed my face, bringing the sweet scent of flowers and strong fragrance.

Every click of my red-bottom Louboutins on the marble floor was sharp, controlled, and impossible to ignore.

I commanded attention without even trying.

Heads turned.

Whispers floated through the hall.

I felt it - the envy, the admiration, the side eyes, the hate.

It boosted my confidence even more.

I knew I looked beautiful.

My honey skin glowed under the lights.

Diamond studs in my ears.

Classy and elegant.

Exactly the woman Damien wanted me to be.

I walked straight to the front desk, chin high.

The secretary blinked twice, her mouth slightly open before she forced a fake smile.

I caught it, but I let it go.

"I'm here to see the CEO," I said sweetly, lifting the balloons a little higher.

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked, voice a little too tight.

I smiled wider. "Oh, I forgot to mention. I'm his wife."

Her face fell. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, "I think... I think there's been a mistake."

I laughed, thinking she was new. "Mistake? Honey, do you want to lose your job?"

She shook her head so fast it was almost funny. "No, ma...ma'am, but... based on the credentials... you don't look anything like the wife."

Her words sliced through me.

I stiffened.

It felt like my whole life flickered through my eyes.

"What... did you just say?" My voice cracked.

The secretary looked terrified. "I'm sorry. I can't say more. But if you want clarity, you can check with his personal assistant. Fourth floor. Block F."

I nodded stiffly, heart pounding against my ribs.

I walked away without another word.

The elevator ride felt endless, even though it was only seconds.

She's wrong, I told myself. She's just new. Mixing things up. She obviously doesn't know anything . Damien could never....

I stared at my reflection in the mirror - the perfect wife - and told myself over and over, She's wrong. She's wrong.

The elevator dinged.

I rushed down the hall, my heels echoing loudly.

There it was the Personal Assistant"s door.

I was about to knock and then I saw it. The door marked CEO.

I didn't think..

I pushed the door open.

And I wished I hadn't.

I froze.

The balloons slipped from my hand.

They floated up, bumping against the cold ceiling.

There, on the sleek black desk Damien loved so much...

My husband.

My Damien.

The man I loved so much.

And he wasn't alone.

Camilla - the woman I had asked about a hundred times - was perched on the desk, her lips on his, her legs tangled around him.

He jerked back, he's face was pale. "Sasha, I can explain"

I couldn't breathe.

My heart cracked open, right there, right then.

Shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.

He tried to step toward me. "It's not what you think."

"What's happening today, Damien?" I whispered, my voice shaking

He blinked. "The balloons... the gifts... what's today?"

He didn't know.

Of course he didn't even remember.

Tears burned my eyes but I refused to let them fall.

He rushed toward me, spewing the same lies he always did. "You're overthinking again. You're being dramatic-"

"No," I cut him off, voice shaking but firm. "I'm not playing your games anymore. I asked you about her. You made me feel crazy. You made me doubt myself."

He said nothing.

His silence told me everything.

Camilla hopped off the desk, fixing her lipstick with a smirk.

"Oh please," she said, her voice dripping fake pity. "I met him first. I left to chase my career. He needed company, that's all you were. A time filler." "Now I'm back ,Unfortunately, your services are no longer needed".

She waved her hand, flashing a giant ring.

Their wedding ring.

"We've been married for four years, sweetheart," she said, grinning. "And guess what?"

She pressed her hand against her belly.

"I'm eight months pregnant."

I stumbled back.

The room spun.

My knees went weak.

My chest tightened. Her words stung.

Damien didn't even try to deny it.

I couldn't control it, the tears streamed down to my face.

He just stood there.

Silent.

That silence killed me more than anything.

I couldn't bear the humiliations.

I didn't care about the balloons anymore.

I didn't care about the gifts.

I just wanted love.

I just needed to breathe.

I flew down the stairs, ignoring the shouting behind me.

I pushed through the main doors.

And slammed right into a wall of flashing cameras.

The media was here.

Paparazzi.

How did they know? Who called them here?

Microphones shoved in my face.

"Sasha, how does it feel to be the homewrecker?"

"Did you know Damien was already married to Camilla?"

"How long have you been the other woman?"

"How does it feel to be a corpse bride?"

I froze.

The words blurred into noise.

Homewrecker.

Thief.

Liar.

Gold digger.

I felt like I was drowning.

I looked around for Damien - the man who said he loved me, the man who promised to protect me.

He wasn't there.

He left me alone to face the wolves.

I wanted to scream.

Cry.

Disappear.

I couldn't answer their questions. My vision was becoming blurred.

The tears flowed even more.

Then, out of nowhere, strong arms grabbed me.

A tall man.

Broad shoulders.

Caramel skin that glowed under the sun.

Gray sleepy eyes that somehow looked wide awake now.

He pulled me through the crowd, protecting me from the flashing lights.

He opened the door of a sleek black Rolls Royce and pushed me inside.

My breathing was ragged. Tears streamed down my face.

I stared at him, my vision was blurrier. "Who are you? Where are you taking me?"

He leaned closer, voice deep, calm.

"You're safe now. You're in good hands."

He wiped my tears with his thumb so gently it made me want to cry harder.

There was something about him... something familiar.

I should've been scared.

But all I felt was warmth.

He studied my face like he knew me from another lifetime.

"You don't deserve what he did to you," he said softly.

"You deserve better."

The car pulled away from Aura Modeling.

And with every mile, it felt like I was leaving a piece of my broken heart behind.

But what I didn't know then...

Was that the man who saved me wasn't just a stranger.