I had truly sunk low. They say love makes you blind — well, I was the living proof. Maybe he had bewitched me, or perhaps I had simply bewitched myself.

“He’s cheating on me, with proof, and yet I’m still here. Is this a lack of self-respect?”

That thought haunted me the entire trip to the wedding reception.

When I arrived, some guests were outside. Not knowing anyone, I slipped into a dark, quiet corner to call him. I called and called, but nothing. After the third failed attempt, I gave up and looked for another way in.

As I tucked my phone into my purse, I spotted a man sitting in a car nearby. He looked very much like Simon. From where I stood, he couldn’t see me, but curiosity gnawed at me.

“What is he doing in that car? And since when does he even have a car? Hmmm…”

While I puzzled over this, I saw a young woman knock on his window. He lowered it and motioned for her to get inside.

My heart pounded as I watched from a distance.

“Simon, Simon, who are you really?” I whispered to myself.

Before I could even process what I was seeing, my legs gave way. Right before my eyes, they kissed tenderly and embraced. Then they got out of the car and were joined by a young man. Judging by the way they spoke, the three clearly knew each other well. The final blow came when the young man, smiling at the woman, said:

“My real sister-in-law, not that so-called doctor. Damn! By the way, you look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you,” she replied.

Turning to Simon, he added:

“Bro, we’ll meet inside after the ceremony.”

They exchanged a knowing wink, and he left. Simon kissed the woman on the cheek and told her:

“Go join the bridesmaids — don’t keep them waiting.”

“Okay, love. See you later. Be good.” She left, beaming.

I collapsed on the ground in tears.

“How could he do this to me? How could I be so stupid?”

As I wept, an unknown man who had been watching me approached.

“Miss, are you alright? Can I help you?” he asked, visibly concerned.

Just then, my phone rang — it was Simon. I declined the call, stood up, and replied to the stranger:

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Alright, but I’ll keep you company until he leaves,” the man added.

Shocked and irritated, I asked who he thought he was and why he was meddling in my personal affairs.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve been watching since you arrived. I saw your partner betray you and choose another woman. You’re right to distrust me — you don’t know me. I won’t insist. Just take care of yourself. Have a good evening.”

Before leaving, he added softly:

“You’re very beautiful. You deserve better.”

Wow. What a night this was turning into.

When Simon finally went into the reception hall, I decided to head home. With that fall I had taken, my dress was ruined anyway — just like me.

Back at my apartment, I showered, then packed all of Simon’s belongings into a box. I placed it by the door with his backpack.

After that, I lay down, checked my phone one last time, and saw no missed calls, no messages. I had truly fallen low.

Of course, I expected nothing more. One thing, however, was certain:

“It’s over. I’ve had my fill. Even revenge no longer interests me. He can go to hell with his bad luck.”

The next morning, around 10 a.m., he came back. I opened the door, blocked his entry, and pointed to his things.

“Take your stuff and leave, please. We’ve tolerated each other enough… Correction: I’ve tolerated you enough. Go now. And congratulations on the baby.”

Stunned, he tried to speak, but I slammed the door in his face and burst into tears.

“Why does love hurt this much, Lord?”

I spent the whole Sunday in melancholy, without appetite, without strength.

“All these years wasted. How do I start over? I gave him everything — my body, my soul. How could he do this to me? Who invented love? It hurts so much.”

I cried myself to sleep.

Monday morning at 5 a.m., my alarm rang. A new week had begun, and with it, a new status: single.

I forced myself to smile at each patient I saw that day — after all, they weren’t responsible for my pain.

At the end of the day, I went to wait for a taxi. Thirty minutes passed and nothing came.

“Even taxis are rejecting me now? Ahhh, surely they’re washing me clean back in the village,” I muttered.

Finally, a taxi appeared. I pushed through the crowd to get in, but another woman beat me to it.

“Neptune Station, Logbessou Depot. I’ll pay four thousand,” she said.

Damn, she had outbid me. I didn’t even have enough money to compete.

Lost in thought, I suddenly heard a voice:

“Dreamer, get in before I change my mind.”

The woman who had offered four thousand was shocked and asked why he had refused her.

“She’s my client,” he answered.

“What? Me, his client?!” I thought in disbelief.

He added:

“Sorry for being late, boss. I had an unexpected issue.”

The other passengers urged me:

“Get in, madam, don’t waste our time.”

Embarrassed, I climbed in. Once inside, he said:

“Fasten your seatbelt, please. You never know.”

“Excuse me? Do we know each other?” I asked, startled.

“You really have a short memory. But I understand — last time you were in tears when we met,” he said with a mocking smile.

A vague memory flashed, and I realized.

“It was you — the man who meddled in my business last Saturday!”

“In the flesh. Thanks for the compliment,” he replied.

I felt awkward and stayed silent, scrolling through my phone.

But as I watched the road, I noticed at some point that he had taken a completely different route.

“Hey!!! Where are you taking me? You’re going the wrong way!” I exclaimed.

He burst out laughing.

“Afraid I might kidnap you?”

“Why not?! I barely know you. Who knows — maybe you’re a headhunter!” I shot back.

He pulled out a small envelope from his bag and handed it to me.

“Here, look inside if that reassures you.”

I opened it and found a photocopy of his ID card.

“Very reassuring…” I muttered.

“Be patient, we’re almost there. And wipe that frown off your face — you’ll scare a baby.”

Once again, he was mocking me.

“Who exactly is this man?!” I wondered.