Betrayed By My Fiancée

Chapter 14: The Empty Locket

I wake up slowly, my neck stiff and sore from the couch. For a second, I don’t even move. I just stare ahead, trying to figure out what day it is, what time it is, and where I even am mentally.

The apartment is quiet, exactly how I left it. Nothing changed. But I have. I shift a little, and my hand brushes against the bandage.

A dull ache pulses through it, reminding me of yesterday, but it barely holds my attention.

My mind is already somewhere else, drifting back to things I didn’t finish thinking about. Things I probably avoided. I sit up slowly, stretching my neck, feeling that tight pull.

The room looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. Or maybe it’s just me.

Something settled overnight… I can feel it, even if I can’t fully explain it yet. I get up and walk to the kitchen, my steps quiet against the floor.

The morning light slips in through the window, soft and pale. Usually, I like this time of day. It feels calm. Today, it just feels… empty.

I pour myself a glass of water and lean against the counter. The glass is cold in my hand, grounding me a little. For a few seconds, I just stand there, letting the silence sit without trying to fill it.

Then it starts. The thoughts. The way he kissed my forehead instead of my lips. The way his eyes kept drifting, like he wasn’t really with me.

The way he stood up so fast… like staying was harder than leaving. I let out a slow breath and set the glass down. I’m not trying to overthink it. I really’m not. But it keeps replaying anyway.

My phone buzzes softly on the counter, pulling me out of it. I glance over and see his name. Dante. My face doesn’t change as I pick it up, even though something inside me shifts a little.

Message: Morning. How’s your hand?

I stare at it for a second before unlocking my phone. My fingers hover for just a moment, then I type.

Reply: It’s better now. That’s it. I put the phone back down and turn away from it. Before, I would’ve added something. Asked how he is. Made it… more. Now I don’t feel that pull.

The phone buzzes again. I don’t rush this time. I let it sit there for a few seconds before picking it up.

Message: Did you eat? I read it slowly. It’s normal. It’s him. The kind of thing he always says. But something about it feels… automatic.

Reply: Not yet. I keep my replies short and controlled. I don’t know why, but it feels right. I stay where I am, leaning against the counter, watching the screen.

The typing bubble pops up almost immediately.

Then disappears.

Then nothing for a few seconds.

Message: You should eat something. Don’t skip meals. I read it twice. It sounds exactly like him. Familiar. Predictable.

But it doesn’t land the same way it used to. It feels like something he says out of habit, not because he’s actually thinking about me right now.

That realization sits heavier than I expect. I type again, slower this time.

Reply: Are you busy today? I stare at the screen after sending it. Waiting. Not anxiously… just observing. Nothing. No typing bubble.

No quick reply.

Just silence stretching out.

A minute passes. Then another. I don’t move. I just watch. Then finally—the typing bubble appears. It stays. Disappears. Comes back again.

My chest tightens just a little, but my face stays calm. I’m not surprised anymore. Not really.

Message: Yeah, a bit. Hospital stuff. I read it once. Then again, slower. It’s vague. Clean. Just enough to answer me without actually saying anything.

My fingers hover again, but I don’t type right away this time. I let the silence sit between us. I let it breathe. A few minutes later, another message comes through.

Message: Why? I look at it, and something in me feels… steady. Before, I would’ve explained everything. Filled in the gap. Made it easier for him. Now I don’t.

Reply: Just asking. I send it and put my phone down. I don’t wait for another reply. I don’t need one right now. Instead, I reach for a piece of fruit on the counter.

I take a small bite, chewing slowly. Everything he says sounds right. Everything he does looks normal. But it doesn’t match anymore. I don’t try to force an answer.

I don’t try to fix the feeling. I just let it sit there, piece by piece, building into something I can’t ignore anymore.

This isn’t just one moment. It’s a pattern. Quiet. Subtle. Easy to miss. But now that I see it… I can’t unsee it. I glance at my phone again. No new messages. I don’t pick it up. I don’t reach for him. I just stand there in the silence, letting it exist exactly as it is.

Because for the first time… I’m not trying to understand him. I’m watching him. I start cleaning because I can’t sit still with my thoughts anymore.

It’s the only thing that helps—something simple, something I can control. If my hands are busy, my head gets quieter. Or at least… less loud.

The apartment is silent except for small sounds—water running, plates clinking, my footsteps moving from one room to another.

I start with the dishes, washing them slower than I need to, stacking them neatly like that somehow matters. Then I move to the living room, straightening things that were already fine. I don’t stop there.

I go into the bedroom next, wiping surfaces, fixing corners, adjusting things no one would notice. Even under the bed. I reach under, my fingers brushing against something small. I pause, then pull it out slowly. It’s a necklace. Heart-shaped.

The kind you open and put a picture inside.

It’s empty. I sit back a little, turning it in my fingers. I remember buying it a while ago, thinking I’d use it someday. I just… never did. It stayed hidden, forgotten, like I was waiting for the right moment that never came.

I place it gently on the bed I just made. For a second, I look at it. Then I turn away, like I don’t want to think about what that means. I exhale and head to the bathroom.

The shower’s already running by the time I step in, steam filling the space. The warm water hits my skin, and I just stand there, not moving, letting it fall over me.

My shoulders slowly relax, but my thoughts don’t fully leave. I stay longer than I usually would. Like I’m trying to wash something off that isn’t even physical.

When I finally step out, I wrap myself in a towel and go back to my room. Everything looks clean. Still. Quiet. Exactly how I left it. I lay on my stomach and reach for my phone. I don’t want to think. I just want something light, something meaningless.

I open InstaView and start scrolling, not really paying attention. Faces, captions, random moments that have nothing to do with me.

That’s what I need.

Something that isn’t mine. Then my thumb stops. I don’t even remember tapping anything, but suddenly I’m not scrolling anymore. I’m on her page. Leondra.

My chest doesn’t drop instantly.

It’s slower than that.

Like something in me freezes first. The newest post is right there at the top, posted two days ago. My eyes stay on it longer than they should.

She’s laughing in the picture, pointing at Dante. Dante. He’s sitting there, relaxed. Comfortable. Not tense, not distracted. Just… easy. There’s a woman sitting close to him, feeding him strawberries, and he’s smiling.

Not the small, controlled smile I’ve been getting lately. A real one. Soft. Natural. Like nothing’s wrong. I don’t move. My fingers tighten slightly around my phone, but everything else stays still.

I look at his face again, trying to match it to the version of him I’ve been with recently. It doesn’t match. It feels like I’m looking at someone I’m slowly being pushed out of.

My eyes drop to the caption.

“Some things never change.”

I read it once.

Then again.

Slower.

It doesn’t explain anything. But it doesn’t feel empty either. It feels like it’s saying something without saying it directly. Like I’m supposed to understand something… but I don’t fully.

Not yet.

My chest feels heavier, but I don’t react. I just sit there, letting the thoughts come in quietly. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen something that didn’t make sense. I know that now. I open my messages and scroll back. It doesn’t take long to find it.

The photo from before. The one I didn’t really look at properly at the time. I open it. Dante, standing close to a woman outside the hospital. Arms around each other. Comfortable. Familiar. I study it this time.

Properly. Not quickly. Not dismissing it. The way they’re standing… it doesn’t look new. It doesn’t look like something random. It looks like something that already existed.

My breathing stays steady, but something inside me shifts again. It’s her. Leondra. I lean back slightly, my mind moving between that photo and the one I just saw.

Then something else comes up. The beach photo. The other woman. I remember her face. I pull it up in my mind and compare. They look alike.

Not exactly the same… but enough to make me pause longer than I want to. Same kind of features. Same structure. Just… different expressions.

I frown slightly, trying to make sense of it. Why do they look so similar? I can’t place it. Nothing clear forms. Just this feeling that whatever this is… it didn’t start recently.

It’s been there.

Long before I noticed. I lower my phone slowly, my grip loosening. The room feels quiet again, but not the same kind of quiet as before.

This one feels heavier. Like it’s holding something I’m only just starting to see. This isn’t random. It’s not new. It’s been happening. And I’m only now catching up.

My eyes drift back to the bed.

The necklace is still there, sitting exactly where I left it. Open. Empty. Waiting. I look at it for a second, then look away again.

Because now it doesn’t feel like I forgot to fill it. It feels like I didn’t even know what I was supposed to put inside.