The apartment was a war zone.

What was once a sanctuary now lay in ruins.

Pieces of their shared life were scattered, broken, discarded.

Evelyn continued to pack.

She moved with a grim finality, placing the last of her belongings into the suitcase.

Each item sealed away felt like closing a chapter.

Julian stood frozen in the doorway.

His eyes swept over the devastation, disbelief hardening into anger.

He stormed toward her, his footsteps heavy on the floor.

"Evelyn, have you lost your mind?" he demanded, his voice sharp with frustration. "I was only gone a short time, and this is what you do?"

He took a sharp breath, trying to control his temper.

"I'm giving you one hour," he snapped. "Put everything back. Now."

Evelyn finished zipping the suitcase before she turned to face him.

Her expression was cold, detached.

A stranger looked out from her eyes.

A faint, mocking smile touched her lips.

"Julian, haven't you realized it yet?" she said, her voice eerily calm. "Some things, once broken, can't be fixed. They're gone for good."

His frown deepened, impatience flashing in his gaze. "What is that supposed to mean?"

She almost laughed at his audacity.

Did he truly not understand?

Or did men like him never believe they were at fault?

No.

It was simpler than that.

His compassion, his tenderness, had always belonged to one person—Isabella.

The woman he truly loved.

Evelyn held his gaze, her voice steady but every word weighted with pain.

"You left me at the altar. You humiliated me in front of everyone. Did you ever once think about what that felt like, Julian? You think this is a tantrum?"

She didn't blink.

The pain she had buried for so long surged to the surface, blurring her vision with unshed tears.

But her resolve was ironclad.

For a fleeting second, Julian felt a prick of guilt.

But it was gone as quickly as it came.

He dismissed it, as he always did.

He had hurt her countless times before, and she had always forgiven him.

Why would this time be different?

A few sweet words, a little charm, and she would cave.

She always did.

The anger left his face, replaced by a composed, smug smile.

"Evelyn, alright, I understand you're upset," he began, his tone patronizing. "But this is excessive. Look at what you've done to our home."

His smile softened into a practiced mask of concern.

He reached out, placing his hands on her shoulders with feigned tenderness.

"Come on, be reasonable. You've made your point. Let's stop this nonsense. We'll pick another day. I'll give you a wedding ten times more grand. How does that sound?"

Evelyn stared at the smile on his lips.

His words were honey, but his eyes were stone cold.

He was so sure of his power over her.

Of course he was.

She had given him every reason to be.

A quiet, bitter scoff escaped her.

She had offered too many chances, and now he believed respect was optional.

Her expression turned to ice.

Wordlessly, she shrugged his hands off her shoulders as if brushing away dirt.

"Don't touch me," she said, her voice flat and indifferent. "It disgusts me."

Julian recoiled, his eyes wide with shock.

He had never heard such coldness from her.

"That wedding is over," she continued, the words cutting through the tension. "I don't want another one. I'm moving out."

"Moving out?" he repeated, confusion warring with his anger.

"Yes. I'm leaving. Now."

He let out a hollow, disbelieving laugh. "And where exactly do you think you're going?"

He knew she had nowhere to go.

No family. No safety net.

For five years, her entire world had been him.

This was a bluff, a desperate play for attention.

He shook his head, ready to call her bluff, when a voice interrupted from the doorway.

It was Isabella.

"Julian, you said you'd just be a minute. What's taking so long?"

Isabella stepped inside. Her eyes landed on Evelyn, and surprise flickered across her face. "Evelyn? What are you doing here?"

Evelyn shot her a glacial look. "This is my apartment. The question is, what are you doing here?"

Isabella lowered her gaze, feigning embarrassment. "I had a little accident with a knife. Julian was so worried, he insisted on staying with me for a few days."

Her eyes then darted to the suitcase. She gasped dramatically, a hand flying to her mouth.

"Evelyn, what is this? Are you that angry? If you're upset, talk to me. I'll apologize. There's no need for this scene."

Evelyn's lips curved into a cold, cruel smile.

She took a slow, deliberate step toward Isabella.

"Are you going to apologize? Do you even mean it?"

Playing her part for Julian's benefit, Isabella nodded, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "Of course. If it helps, I'll do anything."

"Alright, then," Evelyn said, her smile widening without warmth. "Since you're so sincere, I'll help you make it convincing."

Without another word, her hand shot out.

The sharp crack of a slap echoed through the ruined apartment.