The Price of Betrayal

Peter had always believed in love.

That’s why he had given Stacy everything—his time, his energy, his money, his heart. He had taken her in when she had nothing. He made sure she never lacked, never struggled, never had to worry.

But lately, something had changed.

When he reached for her at night, she turned away.

“I’m tired,” she would say.

Or: “I’m just not in the mood, babe.”

Or: “Maybe tomorrow.”

Tomorrow never came.

Yet she still lived under his roof, ate the food he bought, and wore the clothes he paid for. She still smiled—but not for him.

At first, Peter ignored the nagging doubts. Relationships had ups and downs. Maybe she was just stressed. Maybe she needed time.

But then, one night, he found the truth.

A Message That Broke Him

Peter had come home early from work, exhausted but hopeful. Maybe tonight would be different. Maybe tonight, Stacy would finally let him in again.

But she wasn’t home.

Her phone, however, was.

It buzzed on the couch, lighting up with a message.

“Can’t wait to see you again tonight, babe. Last night was amazing.”

The air in Peter’s lungs vanished. His hand trembled as he picked up the phone and scrolled through the messages.

Plans. Sweet words. Pictures.

She was giving herself to another man.

His stomach twisted. His pulse pounded in his ears. So, this was why she had been avoiding him.

All the nights she said she was too tired, too stressed… she had energy for someone else.

Anger surged inside him. His fingers curled into a fist. Every sacrifice he had made, every meal he had placed before her, every hour of work to make sure she was happy—it had all been for nothing.

He clenched the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white. She played him for a fool.

And fools always wake up.

The Moment of Truth

Hours later, Stacy walked through the door, humming softly, her hair slightly messy, her lips curved in a satisfied smile.

Not for him.

She stopped short when she saw Peter sitting in the dimly lit room, her phone in his hand.

“Jesus, Pete, you scared me!” she laughed nervously, kicking off her heels. “Why are you sitting here in the dark?”

Peter didn’t answer. He simply lifted the phone and read aloud, his voice eerily calm.

“‘Can’t wait to see you again tonight, babe.’”

Stacy’s face drained of color.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered.

Peter exhaled slowly, staring at her. “You don’t know?” He scrolled up, reading another message. “‘Last night was amazing. I wish we had more time together.’”

Stacy swallowed hard, her body tense. “Peter, I—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “Just don’t.”

For the first time in months, he felt a strange sense of clarity. The rage that had burned inside him like a wildfire moments ago was dying down, replaced by something else.

Not sorrow. Not heartbreak.

Relief.

Because suddenly, he saw the truth.

He had been holding onto something that had died a long time ago. Maybe it had never really been alive.

He thought she loved him because she had needed him. But needing someone isn’t the same as loving them.

And loving someone doesn’t mean keeping them when they no longer love you back.

Stacy shifted uncomfortably. “Look, Peter, I—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he said, cutting her off again. He stood up, towering over her, but his voice remained calm. “Just answer one question.”

Her lips parted. “What?”

“When did you stop loving me?”

Her eyes darted to the floor. A silence stretched between them.

And that silence was all the answer he needed.

Peter inhaled deeply and stepped back, shaking his head. “You know what? I’m done.”

Stacy blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m done with this. With you. With wasting my time on someone who clearly doesn’t want me.” He gestured around. “You can pack your things or stay here until you figure it out. I don’t care anymore.”

Stacy looked shocked. “You’re not… mad?”

Peter let out a dry chuckle. “Oh, I was. I was ready to do something I’d regret. But then I realized—you’re not worth it.“

Her lips parted as if she wanted to protest, but nothing came out.

For the first time, he had the power.

She had taken him for granted for so long, assuming he would always be there, always waiting, always accepting whatever crumbs of affection she chose to give.

But not anymore.

Peter grabbed his jacket, walking to the door.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Somewhere I can breathe.”

And with that, he stepped out into the night.

For the first time in a long time, he felt free.

He had lost something tonight. But he had also gained something greater.

Self-respect.

And that was something no one could ever take from him again.