His name, my throne

Hiller groaned in frustration as she stared at the black screen of her phone. The dead screen reflected her own strained face, pale beneath the restaurant lights. She had not imagined the evening ending this way. She had made up her mind that she would not go home without an engagement ring on her finger. She had pictured Stosh dropping to one knee, imagined the weight of the ring, the stunned happiness she would feel. Now all she had was silence. She glanced at the grand restaurant once more, swallowing against the ache in her throat, then walked inside to get something to eat. It was one of the city's most popular restaurants, a favorite among the wealthy because of its excellent food, impeccable service, and exclusive atmosphere. Crystal lights glittered overhead, laughter drifted through the air, the scent of roasted meat, wine, and expensive perfume clung to every breath. Hiller took the elevator to the third floor. She glanced around briefly before heading towards a quiet spot at the far end, close to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Three steps . . . She took only three before stopping dead. Confusion crossed her face first. Then fear, then sheer, paralyzing shock. Something sharp twisted beneath her ribs and her hands began to tremble. Cold sweat gathered along her temple, the room tilted, the lights smearing into bright streaks as she slowly turned to her left. And then she saw it . . . The most heartbreaking sight she had ever witnessed. Stosh with another woman, KISSING! Not a brief, accidental touch . . . His hands were on the woman's body, his mouth was pressed to hers with the ease of someone who had done it countless times. All the color drained from Hiller's face. For one terrible moment, the restaurant vanished, the conversations, the clinking glasses, the soft music playing in the background ….none of it reached her. Her lungs forgot how to breathe. She could hear only her own heartbeat, pounding wildly against her ribs. Her fingers went numb and the bags slipped from her hands and struck the floor with a loud thud, sending the couple flying apart. Stosh turned and he paled. “Hiller!” Only minutes ago, he had called her to cancel their date. Now she was standing directly in front of him, staring at the proof of everything he had hidden. “Stosh…” Her voice barely escaped her throat. The woman beside him looked Hiller up and down, from her auburn hair to the bags scattered at her feet, then scoffed. “Stosh, who is she?” Stosh swallowed. “Oh… her?” His nervously glanced at Hiller. “Babe, she's nobody.” Nobody! The word cut through her. It struck her harder than any slap could have. Four years of memories collapsed inside her, reduced to a single, contemptuous word. Stosh hurried towards her. “Hiller, let's go, I'll explain everything at home.” He reached for her, but she stepped away as if his touch might burn her. “I'm nobody, Stosh?” Her voice trembled, carrying the first c***k of something breaking. Stosh looked uncomfortable. “Hiller, you're upset. Let's just go home.” “Home?” A bitter laugh scraped out of her. “Was this the important script you had to read with Manager R when you canceled our date?” Stosh said nothing. Hiller pointed toward the woman. “Was kissing another woman's lips part of that script too?” “Hiller…” “And here?” Her voice rose, drawing glances from nearby tables. “In my favorite restaurant?” “You're not in the right state of mind to talk about this.” Hiller stared at him, disbelief burning through the numbness. “Now I'm not in the right state of mind?” She laughed again, but the sound was hollow. “Am I crazy too?” “Babe.” The other woman sounded impatient, as though Hiller were an inconvenience interrupting her evening. Hiller slowly turned towards her. “Babe?” Her eyes glistened as she looked from the woman to Stosh. “So you've been cheating on me with her?” It was a stupid question. Some desperate, foolish part of her still hoped Stosh would deny it, she needed him to deny it. She needed one thing in this nightmare to remain real. He didn't. The woman stepped forward imposingly. “And who the hell do you think you are?” She stopped directly in front of Hiller. “I've been dating Stosh for two years.” Hiller's breath caught as the woman smiled coldly. “And we're getting married next month.” Hiller stared at her. “What?” “I'm carrying his child.” The words struck Hiller like a blow to the chest. Two years, pregnant, marriage next month. The words spun through her mind until they became meaningless noise. Her stomach churned, and her fingertips turned icy. What was she, then? What had the last four years meant? Had she really been nothing more than a fool playing the part of a girlfriend in a relationship that had never existed? She looked at Stosh. “Why?” The single word came out broken. She did not expect some grand apology. She did not need a speech, she only wanted remorse, anything that proved he understood what he had done. She wanted to believe he had loved her once...even if something had gone wrong, even if there had been a reason, perhaps she could forgive him. Perhaps the years would not feel like a lie. Stosh sighed, as though her pain exhausted him. “Hiller, I'll admit that I liked you at first…” Her heart clenched. “You were kind to me. You supported me financially and helped me build my acting career…” He shrugged. “I knew you needed someone, so I gave you the affection you wanted...but, I never loved you.” Hiller stared at him, her vision blurring. “You… you never… loved me?” “No.” His answer was cold, clean, and final. “You wouldn't even let me touch you. No kissing, no real intimacy, nothing. Just hugs and holding stupid hands like we were in a convent.” Her eyes reddened. “I wanted a woman who could give me what I needed…” He looked at the woman beside him. “And Rina gave me that.” He wrapped an arm around Sabrina's waist and pulled her closer. “Even more.” Hiller's lips trembled. “All those years…” Stosh sighed impatiently. “You had four years of my attention. Isn't that enough? It's time to move on!” Four years. He spoke about them as if they had been a few borrowed hours, as if every sacrifice she had made, every time she had stood beside him, every dream she had built around him was worthless. “How could you do this to me?” Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Get over it. I'm tired of sharing my man with you.” Hiller looked at her. “Your man?” Then she looked at Stosh. “You really never loved me?” “Every woman in your position would think she was loved.” His indifference shattered the last fragile piece of hope inside her. Smack! The sound of Hiller's slap echoed through the restaurant. Stosh staggered back, one hand flying to his cheek. “How dare you?” Sabrina immediately stepped forward. “You hit him?” Smack! Her slap cracked across Hiller's face. The rings on her fingers scraped her skin, leaving a hot, stinging line along her cheek. Hiller stood completely still. Tears burned in her eyes, but none fell. She would not give them that, she would not let either of them watch her collapse. Slowly, she bent down and picked up her bags. Her fingers still shook, but she forced them to close around the handles. She straightened her coat, lifted her chin, and looked at Stosh. Something had changed in her eyes. The heartbreak was still there, raw and bleeding, but beneath it lay something colder, something that had survived the wreckage. “You're going to regret this.” Stosh raised an eyebrow. Hiller gave him a small, bitter smile. “You thought I was a fool.” Her voice was steadier now. Each word landed with quiet certainty. “One day, Stosh, you'll stand in front of me and beg me to forgive you.” She turned to leave. “Hiller!” She did not stop. Behind her, Sabrina laughed. “Well, while you're waiting for that day, remember that we'll be getting married next month!” Hiller kept walking. Her chest still ached, her cheek still burned, and every step felt like dragging herself through broken glass. But she did not turn around . . . Not this time.