As Dave shed his clothes, Anna's eyes locked onto his, the familiar spark of desire igniting between them. His lips brushed against her skin, starting from the gentle curve of her chin and tracing a path down to the sensitive spot on her neck. Anna's soft moans filled the air as Dave's movements grew more urgent, their bodies moving in perfect sync like a rhythm they had danced to too many times before.
Their connection was raw, passionate—almost convincing. Almost.
Later, they lay entwined in the fading warmth of the moment, the sheets tangled around their limbs, clothes scattered like forgotten memories across the floor. Dave turned his head toward her, his breath still uneven, his voice low and husky. "You're amazing, Anna."
Anna smiled, lips barely parting. "You're not so bad yourself, sweetie."
But her heart didn't flutter at his compliment anymore. It hadn't for a while now.
As the haze of passion cleared, reality began to take shape again—sharp and unwelcome. Anna shifted, propping herself up on one elbow, her eyes scanning his face like it held answers. "Dave," she said, cautious but firm, "I've been thinking… when are you planning on proposing? Time isn't exactly on my side."
She placed a hand gently on her stomach, unconsciously—where life had once tried to grow, and hope had repeatedly been ripped from her.
Dave's expression softened. He reached out to brush a damp strand of hair behind her ear, his touch light. "Soon, babe. I promise. You know how much I love you. I'm just… waiting for the right time."
Anna's smile didn't reach her eyes, but she nodded. "Okay. I trust you."
He leaned in to kiss her forehead. "Why don't you take a shower and relax? I'll order dinner."
She kissed him back, then rose from the bed, wrapping the duvet around her like a shield. As she stepped into the bathroom, the steam from the hot water blurred the mirror, but not enough to hide the way her eyes glistened.
The shower was scalding. She needed it to be. Needed something to burn away the ache that had begun to settle in her chest again. The sound of the water was a welcome distraction as she traced patterns on her skin, pretending not to hear the echo of her own doubts.
She loved Dave. She had given him everything. Her time, her youth, her body—and six pregnancies that ended in abortion because he wasn't ready. Six lives lost, one after the other, and she'd endured it all with the belief that love was enough.
But now, something in his promises felt hollow. Something in his smile—forced.
When she stepped out, wrapped in a towel, Dave was already dressed and pacing with his phone pressed to his ear. He looked up and offered a tight smile before speaking into the receiver. "Yeah, I'll be there, babe. Just finishing up something."
Babe?
Anna's heart thudded. He had never called her "babe" on the phone—not like that.
She pretended not to notice. Not yet.
"Who was that?" she asked casually as she towel-dried her hair.
Dave slipped his phone into his pocket. "Just a business call. Work stuff, you know."
She nodded slowly. "Sure."
Dinner was quiet. Too quiet.
Anna sat across from him at the small dining table, pushing her fork through the pasta without much interest. Dave scrolled through his phone between bites. His eyes didn't lift when she cleared her throat. His laughter—when it came at a text—was soft and full of something she hadn't heard in a long time: joy.
"Is work really that funny?" she asked.
He looked up, startled. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Just a meme. Stupid stuff."
But her instincts were no longer blind. A woman knows when she's no longer the only one in a man's life.
That night, she couldn't sleep. Dave lay beside her, snoring softly, while Anna stared at the ceiling. The silence between them now felt like a canyon.
Around 3 a.m., she slipped out of bed and into the living room. Her fingers moved quickly over his phone—he'd carelessly left it on the coffee table.
The passcode was still her birthday.
Her stomach twisted as she opened his messages. At first, nothing incriminating. Then—there she was.
Lisa ❤️
> "Can't wait to see you tomorrow. I miss you already."
> "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Dave."
> "Did you tell her yet? I don't want to be a secret anymore."
Anna's breath hitched, her hands trembling. She kept reading. Her legs gave out beneath her as she reached the last message.
> "I'm so happy you chose me. I can't wait to be your wife."
Her world tilted.
Fiancée. Not a fling. Not a one-night mistake.
She rose from the floor like something ancient and broken, her heart beating in slow, deliberate thuds. She walked back to the bedroom and stood over Dave, watching him sleep.
She had been with him for five years. Given him everything. Sacrificed parts of herself she'd never get back. And this… this was how he repaid her?
Her chest rose and fell with fury. Her vision blurred—not with tears, but with rage.
"I won't let you bury me," she whispered.
Dave stirred slightly, but didn't wake.
Anna walked back to the bathroom. Her reflection met her with a hollow stare. And in that moment, something inside her snapped—not loudly, but quietly, like a string pulled too tight.
She was done waiting.
Done trusting.
Done bleeding for a man who never planned to catch her fall.
She stared into the mirror for a long time, then whispered to her reflection:
"If I can't be your wife in this life, I'll be your curse in the next."
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