“Grace…” Grayson's voice, tainted with regret, called out her name, but it fell on ears numbed by the magnitude of betrayal.
In the living room, the cold light from the streetlamp filtered through the windows, casting an eerie glow on the furniture that had witnessed the unraveling of their relationship. Grace stood by the window, her back turned to the man who had once been her everything.
Grayson, struggling to put on his clothes, rushed behind her, his steps clumsy and desperate. He reached out, his hand hovering in the air, hesitant to touch her. His voice, strained and remorseful, tried to find words that could mend the irreparable.
"Grace, please, let me explain. It's not what you think," he pleaded, the sincerity in his voice at odds with the undeniable truth of his actions. The
