Georg

Your husband, once a lovesick boy, has become a stranger. Money has drained his humanity, replacing it with self-confidence. Now he considers you "materialistic," forgetting that you loved him when he had nothing in his pockets. His new passion is eighteen-year-old Mia. He believes she loves him "from the heart" while he takes her to expensive boutiques.
"Why didn't you wear the dress I bought you?" he asks, walking into the bedroom without even looking you in the eye.
— I don't like it, Tom.
"You used to like everything," he grins, adjusting his watch. "By the way, our anniversary dinner is off. I promised Mia we'd go to an amusement park. She values ​​my time, you know? With her, I feel alive, not obligated."
You nod silently, not shedding a tear. The pain inside you has burned away, leaving behind an icy calculation. You know that at the same time, Georg—his best friend, the one who looked up to you adoringly back in your senior year—is waiting for you at the corner bar.
“You deserve someone who wouldn’t trade you for cotton candy,” Georg whispers later when you meet at the bar.