Chapter Text
The thing about Livxene's marriage was not that it was unhappy.
It was that it was precise.
Every morning unfolded the same way—measured footsteps across marble floors, the hum of the shower at exactly six-fifteen, coffee poured without asking, kisses pressed to the cheek instead of the lips. Eight years of muscle memory had turned intimacy into choreography. They moved around each other like actors who had rehearsed the same play too many times, hitting their marks without ever truly seeing one another.
People called it stability.
Livxene called it love—because she had learned early that love did not have to be loud to be real.
Her husband stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the cuffs of his suit with practiced elegance. Livxene watched him from the edge of the bed, smoothing imaginary creases from her dress. They fit together well, aesthetically. College sweethearts. Arranged, but willing. Families pleased. Futures aligned.
Almost perfect.
Yet there was something between them now. A thin, invisible line that neither dared to acknowledge. It hovered in the silences, stretched across the space where laughter used to be. Livxene sensed it but refused to name it. Naming things made them real, and she had built her life on the discipline of not looking too closely.
"I'll be late tonight," he said casually, slipping on his watch.
She nodded. "Work?"
"Of course."
Of course.
He disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. The sound echoed longer than it should have. Livxene stood, meaning only to straighten his jacket, to play the part she had perfected. That was when she saw it—tucked carelessly into the inner pocket of his suit.
A phone.
Not the one she knew. This one was slimmer. Unfamiliar. Heavy.
Her fingers hesitated before touching it, as if her body already understood what her mind refused to accept. When the screen lit up, the room seemed to tilt.
Messages filled the display—soft words, stolen jokes, promises written in the hours Livxene spent waiting. A woman's name she had never seen before. Hearts. Dates. Longings.
Her hands began to shake.
The world did not shatter. That was the cruelest part. Everything remained intact—the bed neatly made, the morning light steady, the sound of running water behind the bathroom door. The realization settled instead, slow and suffocating, threading itself through her ribs.
So this was the line.
This was what lived between them.
Livxene swallowed hard and slid the phone back into place. She smoothed the jacket once more, steadying her breath until her reflection betrayed nothing. When her husband emerged, towel around his neck, she offered him the same calm smile she always did.
"Drive safe," she said.
He kissed her cheek. Missed her lips. Again.
As the door closed behind him, Livxene remained still, her expression perfectly composed. But inside her mind, something had already been set into motion—cold, deliberate, unwavering.
She would find the woman.
No matter how long it took.
No matter what it cost.
She would end her place in his life and rebuild what had been hers from the beginning. Their marriage did not deserve to end like this, not after all the rules she had followed, all the love she had practiced so carefully.
Livxene Aldarde do not lose what belongs to her.
Not without a fight.