Chapter 4 — The Album That Lied to Me

That night, I found myself flipping through our wedding album the way some people poke a bruise—already knowing it’ll hurt, but needing to know how much. The house was quiet. Too quiet. Leo had gone to bed early, claiming a headache. Convenient. Because if he’d stayed in the living room with me, he would’ve seen my hands shaking. The album felt heavier than it ever had. Seven years of memories pressed between glossy pages, each one whispering a version of our love story that suddenly felt suspiciously fictional. I opened to the first page. There we were. Me—smiling like I’d been handed the universe. Leo—smiling like he’d been handed… something else entirely. God. Had his eyes always looked that distant? I leaned closer, tracing the curve of his jaw the way I used to. Back when I believed that jawline was carved out of devotion instead of detachment. Another page. Another photo. Another lie dressed in white. In one shot, Leo was looking at me—except… not at me. More like through me. Past me. Toward some far-off place where I didn’t exist. A chill slid down my spine. Had I really missed it? Or had I just been so desperate for love that I’d painted over every crack? I flipped to the photo everyone said captured “pure joy.” My veil blowing in the wind, my hands clasped around Leo’s. He looked handsome, sure. But happy? The longer I stared, the more I saw it—the tightness around his eyes, the way his smile didn’t reach them. The way his body leaned toward me but his gaze drifted away, like gravity didn’t know which direction to pull him. Like his heart didn’t either. My chest tightened. Was this where it started? Was this the moment—the exact second—Leo stopped being mine? Or worse… Was it the moment he’d already belonged to someone else? Someone like Barbara. My fingers froze on the page, breath catching in the back of my throat. Had our marriage been built on a foundation that wasn’t mine at all? Had Leo’s heart belonged elsewhere?