Chapter 2

The air in the hallway turned thick and heavy, the cheerful sounds of the party in the other room sounding like they were coming from a different world. Mark' s casual expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. Sarah flinched as if I had physically struck her.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Liam?" Mark said, his voice losing its friendly tone. "It was just a small thing to make my father happy."

"A small thing?" I shot back, my voice rising. "Lying to me for weeks? Faking a business trip and an injury? Kneeling in front of your parents in a goddamn tea ceremony? You call that a small thing?"

Sarah stepped forward, her face a mask of indignation.

"How can you be so cruel?" she demanded, her voice trembling with what sounded like genuine outrage. "Can' t you see what' s happening? A man is dying, Liam! His last wish is for peace and happiness for his family, and you come in here and make these horrible, sarcastic comments? You have no heart!"

Her words were meant to shame me, to paint me as the villain, the cold-hearted monster ruining a dying man' s last celebration. But all I could hear were the echoes of her lies. My mind flashed back to the past week, piecing it all together.

Her excited chatter about the London conference, a conference I now seriously doubted ever existed. Her detailed description of the hotel she was supposedly staying at. The call about her 'sprained ankle' , her voice tight with pain. I remembered feeling so guilty that I couldn't be there to take care of her. I had even offered to fly out to London to help her, an offer she had quickly, almost too quickly, refused, saying it was too much trouble and she would be fine.

It was all a lie. A carefully constructed performance. While I was at home, worried about her, she was here, with him. Playing house.

"My heart?" I said, my voice shaking with a fury I could no longer contain. "You want to talk about heart? Where was your heart when you packed your bags and told me you were flying to London? Where was your heart when you fabricated a story about being hurt just so I wouldn' t get suspicious?"

I took a step towards her, my eyes locked on hers.

"You' re coming with me. Right now. We' re leaving."

Sarah recoiled, shaking her head defiantly. She grabbed my arm, trying to pull me further down the hall, away from the main room.

"Liam, stop it. You' re making a scene," she whispered frantically. "Do you know how embarrassing this would be for Mark' s family if everyone found out? Think about his father! The shock could... it could kill him!"

She was trying to use my own decency against me, to trap me with guilt. She was holding a dying man' s health hostage to cover her own deceit. The manipulation was so blatant, so shameless, that something inside me finally broke. The last thread of hope I had that this was all some terrible misunderstanding just snapped.

I looked at her, truly looked at her, and I didn't see the woman I married. I saw a stranger, a manipulative, selfish person who would use anyone, even a dying man, for her own purposes.

I pulled my arm away from her grasp, my decision settling in my gut with cold, hard certainty.

"You' re right," I said, my voice calm now, devoid of the earlier rage. It was a chilling, empty calm. "I shouldn' t make a scene. You should stay here. You should continue playing the part of the dutiful daughter-in-law."

I turned my back on her and started walking towards the front door.

"Liam, where are you going?" she called after me, a note of real panic in her voice now.

I paused at the door, turning to look back at her and Mark, who stood there like two statues, caught in the headlights.

"I' m going home to call my lawyer," I said clearly. "I' m filing for divorce. You two can have each other. I wish you all the best."

Sarah stared at me, her mouth hanging open, speechless for the first time. The color drained from her face.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "You can' t. Liam, you can' t do this."

"I can," I said. "You made your choice when you knelt on that cushion. Now I' m making mine."

I turned and walked out the door, leaving her standing there in the hallway of her new life. The sounds of the party followed me out into the night, but they felt a million miles away. The betrayal was no longer a confusing shock, it was a hard, undeniable fact. And I knew, with absolute certainty, that my marriage was over.