The first night at the hotel was magical. The waves whispered against the shore, a cool ocean breeze drifted through the balcony doors, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like we were us again. David and I had been married for five years, and while things were never terrible, something always felt incomplete.
David had always dodged the topic of having children, but I let myself hope this vacation was a sign he was ready to move forward with our life. The hotel had an old-world charm, though David had suddenly switched his choice to this one, seeming unusually excited about it.
After a perfect dinner, we went to bed. But later that night, David quietly slipped out of bed. I followed him through the dim hallway, where I saw him with a blonde receptionist. They spoke in hushed voices before getting in her car. I was frozen as he casually waved at me, then disappeared.
The next morning, David was gone. The receptionist confirmed he checked out. I was left shattered.
