The elegant dinner lay cold and untouched on the sprawling dining table, a silent testament to yet another broken promise. Vivienne glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. It was almost midnight. Their third anniversary, and Caden was, as always, late.

A familiar ache settled in her chest, a volcano of hurt threatening to erupt. "Madam, should I reheat the dinner?" the head maid's gentle voice broke through her thoughts. Vivienne forced a smile, wiping away a stray tear before it could be seen.

"No, that won't be necessary," she replied, feigning a yawn. "I think Caden got caught up in a meeting again. You can clean the table and leave when you're done." Her voice cracked as she added, "And the cake? Distribute it among the staff. It's been a long, tiring day for all of us."

Upstairs, the red gown she had worn, a relic of a time Caden had once complimented her, lay discarded. Her phone buzzed, and the name 'Samuel' flashed on the screen. Not again, she thought, but curiosity, or perhaps masochism, made her tap it open. A screenshot of a news channel filled the display: Caden, her husband, locked in a passionate kiss with a blonde woman. On the lips. "What the fuck?" she whispered, the phone clattering to the floor as she crumpled onto the bed, the dam finally breaking.