I stayed with Mira for a while. Her spare room was small, but it held peace. And I needed peace more than I needed closure.
Weeks later, at the grocery store, I ran into Dante — a high school friend with kind eyes and a cart full of cinnamon bread.
He never pried. He listened.
I wasn’t looking for love. I was just looking for air.
And he gave me space to breathe.
The Fallout
Eventually, rumors started circulating.
Clara was pregnant.
He reached out: “I miss you.”
“I made a mistake.”
I wished him well.
I kept walking.
I replied:
“It’s not your fault. I hope you find peace and a life free of lies.”
Because sometimes the other woman isn’t the enemy. She’s just another name on his list of betrayals.
Healing, Slowly
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