Selfish
272 Words
At first, being with Stanley felt like slipping into a familiar song. He knew her favorite wine, the restaurants she loved, the way she liked her hand held in public. Everything was polished, effortless—just like before.
But as the days passed, the shimmer dulled.
Stanley was different now, or maybe she was. He still knew how to charm, but it was often laced with subtle jabs.
“You’ve… changed,” he remarked one evening over dinner. “More stubborn. Less agreeable.”
Katheryne smiled politely, but the words stuck. She remembered Henrik telling her once, ‘Your will is your strength, Katheryne.’ Stanley made it sound like a flaw.
He was also… busy. Phone calls during meals, texts under the table, meetings he wouldn’t explain. When she asked, he brushed it off.
“Business, darling. You wouldn’t understand.”
One evening, after waiting alone for nearly two hours at an upscale restaurant, she saw him arrive—laughing with a young woman whose hand lingered on his arm longer than necessary. His explanation was smooth, almost rehearsed. “A client. Nothing more.”
But something inside her tightened.
That night, lying in bed next to Stanley’s sleeping form, Katheryne’s mind wandered—not to their past, but to Henrik. His quiet presence. The way he listened without interrupting. How he had defended her without being asked.
She realized with a hollow ache that with Henrik, she had never felt alone in a crowded room. With Stanley, she had never felt more isolated.
And for the first time since she left, the word mistake whispered at the edges of her mind.
- Writer
