The backlash didn’t rise.
It exploded.
By morning, Elara’s name was everywhere again.
Not admiration.
Not curiosity.
This time—it was sharper. Meaner. More invasive.
⸻
Elara stood by the window, phone in her hand, scrolling slowly.
Not obsessively.
Not emotionally.
Just… taking it in.
“So she’s bold enough to cheat now?”
“He married her out of pity and this is what she does?”
“That man looked way better suited for her anyway…”
Her thumb paused briefly.
Then continued.
Her face remained calm.
But her chest felt tight.
Not from shame.
From something colder.
Familiar.
⸻
The door opened without warning.
“Elara.”
Maya walked in like a storm.
Phone in hand.
Eyes blazing.
“I just saw everything,” she said. “Tell me this is some kind of joke.”
Elara turned.
“It’s not,”
