The Shattered Vows

AUDREY'S POV

My trembling fingers pulled the match away from the wick, leaving a soft, golden flame in its wake. I blew out the wooden stick and placed it on the small silver tray resting on the dresser. The warm glow of the last candle joined a dozen others scattered across the master bedroom, casting dancing, romantic shadows against the pale walls. A soft, melodic jazz tune hummed from the corner speaker, weaving through the quiet space. Two crystal glasses sat waiting beside a chilled bottle of Gideon’s favorite vintage wine on the nightstand.

Tonight had to be perfect. It just had to be.

I ran my hands down my thighs, smoothing the delicate lace and fabric of my brand-new silk lingerie. The dark crimson material hugged my curves, a deliberate choice I spent hours agonizing over at the high-end boutique downtown. I stared at my reflection in the floor-length mirror, my chest rising and falling with shallow, nervous breaths. A desperate hope fluttered in my ribs, beating like a trapped bird.

It had been an agonizingly long month since my husband last stepped foot in this house. Thirty days of staring at an empty pillow. Thirty days of unanswered texts and brief, dismissive phone calls. Tonight was supposed to be the reset. I wanted to remind him of the spark we used to share.

Downstairs, the heavy thud of the front door echoed through the quiet house. Footsteps sounded on the hardwood stairs, steady and familiar. A chill chased down my spine, followed immediately by a rush of heat.

He was home.

I hurried to the edge of the mattress, clasping my icy hands together to stop their shaking. The brass handle of the bedroom door turned. The heavy wood swung open.

Gideon filled the doorway. Even after a month away, the sheer sight of him stole the air right out of my lungs. He possessed the kind of face carved by angels—sharp jaw, piercing eyes, perfect features that drew stares wherever he went. Yet tonight, he looked unusually disheveled. His tie hung loose around his unbuttoned collar, and his bespoke suit bore deep wrinkles. It was a rare, unsettling contrast to his normally immaculate self.

I parted my lips to welcome him, but the words died in my throat.

“What are you doing in my room?”

His freezing voice sliced through the warm jazz and candlelight, shattering the fragile mood I spent hours building. He didn't sound surprised. He didn't sound tired. He sounded repulsed.

My confidence crumbled instantly. My hands dropped to my sides, my fingers gripping a small portion of the silk fabric. I suddenly felt ridiculous in the outfit. “I… I thought we could spend some time together,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

His sharp gaze swept over the room. He took in the flickering flames, the poured wine, the carefully curated ambiance. Finally, his eyes landed on me. There was no softening in his expression, no flicker of warmth. His features hardened and grew darker, causing a shiver to run down my arms.

“I didn’t ask for an explanation,” he said coldly. “Blow out the candles and get out.”

I froze. The rejection hit me like a physical blow to the stomach. “Gideon,” I pleaded quietly, forcing a smile that felt incredibly fragile. “It’s been a month since you’ve been home. Can’t we just sit down? Can't we just talk for a moment?”

He let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his temples as if my very existence caused him a nagging headache. “I’m tired, Audrey. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“I waited for you for an entire month!” My voice cracked, and I hated how raw and desperate I sounded. “I thought after so much time away, you might want to see me.”

“I said I’m tired,” he snapped, dropping his hand to glare at me. “Are you deaf?”

A thick, painful lump formed in my throat. I swallowed hard, fighting the sting gathering behind my eyes. This was what love did to you. It made you foolish. It made you endure treatment you never deserved. You might ask why I married him when I knew this was how he behaved. It would shock anyone to know that Gideon was not always this cruel.

When we dated, Gideon was the epitome of sweet and thoughtful. He made me feel like the center of his universe. I fell for it. But the very night we exchanged our vows, that man vanished into thin air. He abandoned me in our bridal suite, leaving me alone on our wedding night to go off to God knows where. I did not see my husband until a week later. No intimacy. No honeymoon. Just cold, empty distance.

I took a shaky breath, refusing to retreat just yet. “Maybe I can help you relax,” I offered softly, stepping closer. I forced myself to hold his gaze. “Like the night before you traveled. We shared that night together. Let me—”

A dry, mocking laugh erupted from his chest, cutting me off.

“Help me?” He looked at me with profound pity and disgust. “Do you think I’d want to have anything to do with you? The last time was a drunken mistake.”

He shook his head, his lip curling into a sneer. “Stop trying so hard, Audrey. It’s pathetic.”

Drunken mistake? Pathetic?

The words lashed across my face. A vicious, invisible slap that left my cheeks burning and my ears ringing. My fists clenched at my sides, the sharp sting of my nails digging into my palms grounding me. My mind raced, unable to comprehend the transformation standing before me.

“Is it pathetic to want my husband to care?” I demanded. The lump in my throat gave way to a surge of defensive anger. “To hope that after one month, you might actually want to be with me tonight?”

He sneered, his eyes sweeping the room with blatant disgust. He gestured toward the nightstand with a dismissive wave of his hand. “This isn’t going to fix anything. Look at this room. The candles, the wine, that ridiculous silk outfit. It only makes me hate you more. Stop embarrassing yourself.”

I stepped back, the breath knocked out of me. “Hate me?” I whispered, barely able to get the words out. The word echoed in the quiet room, sounding so foreign, so wrong.

“Yes, Audrey,” he sighed heavily, glaring at me. “I think you should stop holding on to something that never existed.”

“Never existed? How can you say that?” The tears welled up, blurring my vision, but I refused to let them fall. “For three years you've been intentionally hurting my emotions time after time. You neglect me. You ignore me. And you act like you simply don’t care about the damage you cause.”

Gideon scoffed loudly. His eyes narrowed into slits of ice. “Audrey, don’t get me wrong. I’m not acting.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a harsh, mocking tone. “I actually don’t care. I never did, and I never will. Get that into your thick, empty skull. Do you understand?”

The last thread of my sanity snapped.

“Then why did you ask for my hand in marriage?” I shouted, my voice shaking with three years of repressed agony. “Why marry me, Gideon? Why?”

His jaw tightened. A muscle ticked in his cheek as he stared me down. For a second, I thought he might finally give me an answer. Instead, he simply turned his broad back on me. He marched across the room, stormed into the adjoining bathroom, and slammed the heavy door shut behind him.

The loud crack echoed off the walls.

Left alone in the mocking glow of the flickering candles, my legs gave out. All the effort I poured into this night felt like a cruel joke. I sank onto the edge of the mattress, curling my fingers into the pristine white sheets. I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. They broke free, streaming down my cheeks in hot, silent streams. My heart ached so fiercely I clutched my chest, desperately hoping to relieve the physical pain tearing through me.

*Bzzzz.*

A sharp buzzing sound sliced through the heavy silence.

I flinched, wiping my wet cheeks. Gideon’s phone vibrated on the nightstand. The screen lit up, casting a harsh blue glow that cut through the warm candlelight.

Normally, I wouldn’t touch it. I knew better. He was always so protective of his phone, keeping it locked away or face down. But tonight, something compelled me. Maybe it was the unbearable pain radiating in my chest. Maybe it was the sheer betrayal of his words still echoing in my ears. Or maybe it was that small, nagging voice in my head telling me to stop minding my own business.

I pushed myself off the edge of the bed. I reached out, my hands trembling as my fingers brushed the cold metal casing. I picked up the phone. I didn't even need to unlock it. The notification glared right at me, burning the words into my retinas.

*Nora ❤️: I enjoyed the vacation with you. Sweet dreams 💋.*

My heart stopped beating. Every ounce of air vanished from my lungs. The room spun in a dizzying blur.

Vacation?

For the past month, Gideon claimed he was on a grueling business trip. I spent thirty days waiting for him, and he spent it on a lavish romantic vacation with another woman.

The phone slipped from my numb fingers, dropping onto the nightstand with a clatter. The truth settled in my chest like a ton of concrete blocks. He wasn't just cold. He was giving his warmth to someone else.

The click of the bathroom latch echoed like a gunshot.

The door swung open. Gideon stepped out, a fresh towel casually draped over his broad shoulders. He stopped in his tracks.

Before I could process the consequences, before I could stop myself, my mouth moved on its own.

“Who is Nora?”