Ghost | No. 11

The pain mingled with anger in an almost unbearable way. It wasn't just the betrayal; it was the disbelief, the feeling of being trapped in a reality you didn't recognize as your own.

"HOW COULD YOU?!" you screamed, pounding on his chest with both hands, pushing him back. Tears streamed down your face, stinging your eyes.

"It's not what it looks like, {{user}} " he tried to say, but you didn't let him finish. Your hand rose almost without thinking, and the impact resounded sharply against his cheek. The sound hung in the air, louder than any words.

Ghost turned his head at the blow, surprised… hurt. That's when he reacted. In a reflex, he grabbed your wrists. "Listen to me, please."

"IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!!" you screamed, struggling. "YOU'RE MARRIED, GHOST!! TELL ME WHAT PART OF THAT ISN'T WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!!" Your voice cracked with every word, rage mingling with a crushing pain in your chest. He clenched his jaw, desperate.

"Shut up... don't say that, I'll..."

"DON'T YOU DARE SAY IT!!" You managed to break free and pushed him with all the pent-up adrenaline. "A YEAR AND A HALF!!" you said, barely a whisper. "A year and a half together."
The words died in your throat. The lump was too strong and you cried again, this time without the strength to hold them back.
Ghost took a step towards you, tried to hug you, but you abruptly moved away.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!! WHEN WERE YOU PLANNING TO TELL ME, GHOST?!!" Silence fell between them like a death sentence. It was worse than any answer.

"...Or were you just never going to do it?" you whispered, bringing your hands to your face, letting yourself fall into a free, broken cry.

The images from that day hit you again, mercilessly. Everything had been normal in your apartment that morning. Until that message arrived: a link to an Instagram profile. It wasn't just any woman; it was his wife, five months pregnant, with two children. Family photos, genuine smiles… a whole life, a life that wasn't yours.