"Maybe another day. It's her birthday today, and I need to head back and spend time with her."

Lilith’s voice, a siren's song, was surprisingly clear, each word a dagger twist to my heart.

"Don't be like that. You've been buzzing around her birthday party for days. What’s the big deal about going back? Come see me tonight, I’ll help you de-stress…"

"Being with her is pointless. So, how exactly are you going to help me de-stress…"

Archer's voice trailed off, replaced by the suggestive sounds from the room.

Through the sliver of the door, I saw their entwined bodies.

My hand, pressed against the wall, barely held me upright.

After the party wrapped up, I watched my parents make their exit, and then Archer and I headed home.

I sank onto the sofa, watching Archer in the kitchen pour me a steaming mug of coffee.

Honestly, after witnessing Archer's betrayal firsthand, I felt no anger, no pain.

Instead, a strange calm washed over me.

I even found myself calmly replaying his kindnesses from our younger days, those moments that once felt like my bedrock.

I tried to pull the Archer of my memories apart from the man in front of me, piece by piece.

Searching for any lingering proof that he still loved me.

But reality hit hard: people change.

Archer was no longer the boy from my memories who adored me most.

His phone, discarded on the sofa, buzzed.

I glanced at it. A familiar number. Lilith, naturally.

Casually, I flipped Archer's phone over on the sofa for him.

The sudden noise made Archer hurry out of the kitchen, heading outside to take the call.

When he returned, that same reluctant mask was back on his face as he looked at me.

I was done playing along. I stayed silent.

Archer, assuming I was just exhausted, cut to the chase.

"Honey, there's a work emergency at the company. I gotta go handle it. Drink your coffee and get some rest, don't wait up for me."

Watching his back as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, I felt a surge of wanting to do something.

Not for love, but for our marriage, for our child.

Finally, as he was slipping on his shoes by the entrance, I called out.

I walked over and straightened his suit jacket.

Taking his hand, I guided it to my abdomen, whispering softly.

"Archer, the baby and I will miss you like crazy. Please, can you just stay home tonight?"

Archer froze, clearly taken aback, hesitating.

Then his phone rang again. He gave me a contrite hug.

And then, he walked out.

Not long after, a new message pinged on my phone.

This photo was even clearer.

Perhaps it was the late hour, the empty streets, but Archer and Lilith were locked in a passionate kiss under a streetlamp.

The picture even caught them ducking into a brownstone, their bodies still pressed together.

I dabbed at the corner of my eye. I felt like I’d been crying, but there were no tears.

Then it hit me: when the pain is truly bone-deep, tears just… don't come.

I couldn’t quite label this feeling. Maybe it was a heart that had finally gone numb.

I sat there until dawn. Archer never came home.

The next day, Archer rolled in late again, as usual.

I’d deliberately waited for him, sitting in the exact same spot where I’d watched him leave.

When he entered through the door and saw me on the sofa, a flicker of surprise crossed his face.

Then he casually walked over, pulled me into a hug, and stroked my hair, his touch surprisingly gentle.

"Why are you waiting here? You’re not even wearing a sweater. You’ve got to be super careful not to catch a chill when you're pregnant."

I pushed him away and pointed to the seat opposite me, motioning for him to sit.

"We need to talk, Archer Edwards."

His move to sit down halted mid-air.

It had been ages since I’d called him by his full name.

Archer looked flustered.

"Sweetheart, did I do something wrong? Did I upset you? Was it because I came home too late…"