Fifteen Years of Love

He gazed at me and suddenly pulled me into his strong, warm embrace. "Erica, I like you. Will you let me protect you, forever?"

I melted into his arms, my mind drifting back to that day in senior year. He had looked at me with such earnest eyes, promising. I couldn't help but nod.

...

After graduating from college, I married Anton.

Our first year of marriage was marked by a challenge. A major virus outbreak swept through the country.

He was away on a business trip when the crisis hit, leaving me home alone. Pharmacies were stripped bare, and I watched the death toll rise on my phone each day, a cold dread settling in my stomach.

One night, a soft knock echoed through the silent apartment. I peeked through the peephole, and to my surprise, it was Anton standing outside.

He was panting like a guardian angel who had just descended from the heavens.

"How did you get back?" I asked.

He had been hundreds of kilometers away just that afternoon.

"I drove back," he said, his voice muffled through his thick mask. "Don't come out."

He pulled out a box of medicine from his coat and left it at the door. "Remember to take the medicine."

"Where are you going?" I asked, confusion swirling in my mind.

"I've got some things to do," he said hurriedly before disappearing into the night.

Later, I discovered he had driven for five straight hours with a high fever just to bring me that medicine.

He could have had it mailed, but he was worried it might get lost or stolen, or that I might fall ill without it.

I never doubted Anton's love for me.

Yet he had fallen for a new girl at his company.

He described her as innocent and pure, someone who stirred his protective instincts.

I investigated her, and indeed, she had an angelic face and a tragic background that tugged at the heartstrings of men.

But she had also used her background to manipulate many before him.

When I presented Anton with the evidence, he refused to believe me.

"Erica, you're just used to seeing deceit in the business world. You always think the worst of people," he accused.

He believed I wasn't as pure and kind as Skylar. But he forgot he had promised to always protect me.

...

When I first noticed him sharing daily updates with Skylar, alarm bells rang in my head.

When a man started sharing his everyday life with another woman, it meant he was more than just interested.

I gave him a warning, but he brushed it off, saying nothing was going on between them.

Later, when I looked through his chat history, I saw they were sharing what they had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, what flowers, birds, and fish they had seen, and which songs they liked.

Yet the last message in my pinned chat was from a month ago.

On my birthday, he received a text from Skylar.

Skylar: [Mr. Stark, my manager wants me to entertain Mr. West and drink with him. I'm scared.]

Anton left me alone to face the freshly lit candles and rushed to the hotel.

Until the candles burned out and the wax covered the cake, he still didn't come back.

The next day, when he returned, his collar was smeared with lipstick marks, and there were visible scratches on his neck.

He bitterly apologized to me, explaining, "She was drugged by that bastard. I had to go save her."

I couldn't understand how there could be so much helplessness in his voice. Rationally, I knew this man was no longer worth holding onto.