CHAPTER TWO:Three Weeks Earlier
652 Words
Anna’s POV
Madison said red was his favourite.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror for longer than necessary.
The dress hugs my waist more than I’m used to. The fabric is soft and fitted, nothing like the oversized blazers and loose skirts I usually wear to work.
“You never wear things that show your shape,” Madison had laughed earlier over video call. “Anna, you have curves. Stop hiding them.”
I remember smiling awkwardly.
Hiding feels safer.
But tonight is different.
Tonight is three years.
Three years with Maxwell.
Three years of learning his coffee order. Three years of cooking his favourite meals. Three years of telling myself love requires patience.
I smooth down the red fabric again.
Maybe tonight he’ll look at me differently.
Maybe tonight he’ll finally see me.
My phone buzzes.
Madison.
I smile immediately.
She’s been so helpful today.
“Are you dressed?” she texts.
“Yes. I feel overdressed,” I reply.
She responds instantly.
“Trust me. He’ll love it. Go now before he falls asleep.”
I bite my lip.
“He said he had a long day.”
“Exactly,” she types. “Surprise him. He needs something exciting.”
Exciting.
The word lingers.
Was I not exciting before?
I shake the thought away.
I grab the small cake box from the counter — chocolate, his favourite — and head out.
Maxwell’s apartment lights are on when I arrive.
Good.
My heart beats faster.
I don’t knock.
I use the spare key he gave me last year.
“You should feel at home,” he had said back then.
The memory stings.
The living room is quiet.
Too quiet.
Then I hear something.
A soft laugh.
Familiar.
My stomach tightens.
No.
It can’t be.
The bedroom door is slightly open.
The sound comes again.
Madison’s laugh.
Soft. Breathy. Intimate.
My hand trembles as I push the door open.
And there they are.
Maxwell in his bed.
Madison under his sheets.
Her hand resting possessively on his chest.
For a moment, no one moves.
The cake box slips from my fingers.
It hits the floor.
Maxwell jolts upright.
“Anna—”
Madison doesn’t scream.
She doesn’t hide.
She doesn’t look surprised.
She looks calm.
Prepared.
She even smiles.
“Happy anniversary,” she says softly.
The red dress suddenly feels too tight.
Too bright.
Too stupid.
I can’t breathe.
Maxwell scrambles to speak.
“It’s not what it looks like—”
But it is exactly what it looks like.
Three years.
Replaced in seconds.
My eyes shift to Madison.
She tilts her head slightly.
“I was tired of being second,” she says.
Second.
The word echoes.
Had I ever been first?
I don’t cry.
Not yet.
I just feel something inside me… go silent.
All the effort.
All the apologies.
All the times I blamed myself for his distance.
I was never the problem.
I was just convenient.
Maxwell reaches for me.
“Anna, wait—”
I step back.
He hesitates.
He doesn’t chase.
That hurts more than anything.
Madison pulls the sheets higher around herself.
As if she belongs there.
As if I never did.
“Don’t make a scene,” she says gently.
Gently.
Like she’s still my friend.
That’s when something breaks.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just quietly.
I turn around.
And I walk out.
The rain hits my face before the tears do.
I don’t remember leaving the building.
I don’t remember the elevator.
I just remember running.
My heels slip against the pavement.
Cars blur past.
The red dress clings to me.
Heavy.
Humiliating.
My phone buzzes again.
Madison.
I don’t look.
I can’t.
My chest tightens.
My vision blurs.
And then—
Headlights.
A black car.
Brakes screech.
The back door opens.
I don’t think.
I don’t care.
I just get in.
And everything fades to black
- Writer
