Her name was Aléna, a former coworker of his. A few hours before the celebratory dinner, her husband called and said, We need to talk.
Juliette stood in the kitchen of her Lyon apartment, carefully arranging napkins on the table set for the feast. It was the tenth wedding anniversary with Théo, and she wanted everything perfect: candles flickering, her favorite wine, the aroma of roasted fish filling the house. Just hours before the guests arrived, her phone rang. Her husbands name showed on the screen. Juliette, we need to talk, he murmured in a cold, distant tone. In that moment her heart tightened, as if foreseeing the inevitable. She didnt yet realize the call would upend her life, but she already felt everything she had built over the years beginning to crumble.
Théo was her rock, her great love, the one with whom she shared dreams and hardships. They had met at university, married young, raised their daughter Sophie together. Juliette trusted him blindly, even when he returned late from work or traveled. She was proud of his successThéo had become a department head at a major company, and his charisma opened every door. Yet, phone in hand, she replayed the details shed ignored: his distant stare, his brief answers, the strange calls he hung up on instantly. The name Élodie resurfaced in her mind, like a shadow she had refused to acknowledge.
Élodie had worked with him two years earlier. Juliette had seen her at a seminartall, confident smile, eyes lingering a little too long on Théo. At the time she brushed away the pang of jealousy: Just a colleague, nothing serious. Théo had even told her that Élodie quit to move to the provinces. But today, hearing his hesitant breath on the line, Juliette understood: Élodie had never truly left. I didnt want it to happen this way, Juliette, he began, each word landing like a blow. He confessed hed been seeing Élodie for a year, that she had returned to Lyon, and that he felt lost. Juliette stayed silent, feeling the ground slip beneath her.
She didnt remember hanging up. Nor did she recall turning off the oven or putting away the candles shed lit with such hope that morning. Thoughts swirled: How could he? Ten years, Sophie, our home all for her? Sitting on the sofa, wedding photo in her hands, she tried to grasp when her life had turned into a lie. She thought back to Théos embrace the week before, his promise to take Sophie to the mountains. Meanwhile, he was with someone else. The betrayal scorched her, but the worst part was the realization that she hadnt seen it because she believed in him. Shed loved him so much shed become blind.
When Théo came home, Juliette greeted him with a heavy silence. The guests never arrivedshe had canceled the dinner, unable to act. He looked guilty but not broken. I never wanted to hurt you, Juliette. But with Élodie its different. Those words finished her. She didnt scream or cryshe stared at him as if he were a stranger. Leave, she said, her voice firmer than she thought possible. Théo nodded, grabbed his bag, and left, leaving her alone in an apartment still scented with a party that never happened.
A month slipped by. Juliette tried to live for Sophie, who remained unaware of everything. She smiled at her daughter, prepared her breakfasts, yet spent nights sobbing, wondering, Why wasnt I enough? Friends offered support, but their words didnt heal. She learned Théo and Élodie now lived together, a fresh wound. Still, something stirred inside hera strength. She hadnt collapsed. She had canceled the dinner, but not her life.
Now Juliette looks toward the future with cautious optimism. She enrolled in design courses, a childhood dream, spends more time with Sophie, and learns to love herself. Théo sometimes calls, asking for forgiveness, but she isnt ready to listen. Élodie, once just a shadow, no longer holds any power over her. Juliette now understands that her life isnt defined by him or their marriage. It belongs to her. That anniversary, meant to be a celebration, became the opening chapter of a new storya story where she no longer lives for anyone elses promises.
I have learned from this that one must never sacrifice their light for someone who cannot see it.
