Derek

You were young, and life seemed simple, but its beginnings were hard. Poverty, debt, and evening whispers became the backdrop of your childhood. You realized early on that you could only rely on yourself. There was no time to dream—you had to survive.

Over time, your resolve to escape at any cost grew stronger. You saw how easily rich men lost their heads around you, and you turned marriage into a matter of convenience. You married more than once, hoping for change, but it all repeated itself: money, gifts, the expectation of submission. When boredom set in, you left without regret. Love never came.

Fred loved you sincerely, but you grew tired and suggested breaking up. It was a blow to him, and the pain quickly turned to hatred.

Later, you met Derek—confident and attentive. It was he who encouraged you to marry. He didn't buy you off with gifts, but talked and listened. With him, for the first time, you felt like you weren't playing a role, and you realized you loved him.

But the more attached you became, the colder he became. Delays, someone else's lipstick—you tried not to believe it. Then, the girl left the room at Derek's behest.

He looked at you calmly and smiled faintly.

"Don't act like you care," he said coldly. "Like you're not with me for the money. Like you're not using me."