Ten years between us

The candlelight danced softly on the white table like it was sorry for something bad that was about to happen. Elena sat quietly with her hands resting on her lap. Her green silk dress suddenly felt too tight around her body. She had picked this restaurant because she thought tonight would be special. A new beginning. She kept telling herself that thirty-five was not too late to start a new chapter in life. Not when Marcus had spent months talking about “their future.” Marcus stood up and smiled at her. “I’ll be back,” he said before walking to the restroom, leaving his phone on the table. A few seconds later, the phone lit up. Then again. And again. Elena tried to ignore it. She knew she should not touch his phone. But the messages kept coming like they were calling her name. Her heart started beating faster. Finally, she looked. “Last night was amazing. I already miss your hands on me.” Elena froze. Another message came in. A picture. Marcus was smiling in the photo. His hair looked rough and messy. A woman’s hand rested on his chest like she belonged there. Elena felt like her stomach had dropped to the floor. Her fingers shook badly as she picked up the phone. More messages came pouring in like heavy rain during a storm. Voice notes. Pictures. Messages from nights Marcus had told her he was “working late.” Every word felt like a knife cutting slowly into her chest. She felt sick. The expensive food in front of her suddenly looked disgusting. When Marcus returned, he was still wearing that easy smile that used to make her feel safe. But the moment he saw her face, his smile disappeared. “You went through my phone?” he asked quietly, sounding annoyed instead of ashamed. Like she was the one who had done something wrong. Elena struggled to speak. “Who is she?” she finally whispered. Marcus let out a tired sigh and pulled his chair loudly across the floor. Some people turned to look at them. “This is exactly your problem, Elena,” he said. “You are always suspicious. Always cold. You pushed me away with your work, your moods, and all your overthinking. What did you expect me to do?” His words hit her heart like heavy stones thrown into calm water. Tears burned behind her eyes. “I expected loyalty,” she said softly. Marcus leaned closer, his face hard and cruel. “At your age,” he said, “you should be thinking about how to keep a man happy instead of pushing him away. Women your age become desperate. Honestly, I stayed longer than I should have.” For a moment, the whole restaurant became silent to her. The laughter. The music. The sound of plates and glasses. Everything disappeared. All she could hear was the sound of something breaking deep inside her chest. Slowly, Elena stood up. She placed his phone carefully on the table. Then she turned and walked away without saying another word. The heels she had bought because she hoped for a marriage proposal clicked loudly against the marble floor like nails closing the lid of a coffin.