Leaving the Island

Phoebe’s POV

"We need to talk."

I turned to face Antonio, the man I was supposed to call my husband. He stood there, his eyes dark and emotionless, as if I hadn't just caught him cheating on me. There wasn’t a hint of guilt or regret—just an icy stare that made me feel like the intruder in my own marriage.

Instantly, I felt so angry within me, and before I could stop myself, I stormed towards him. My hand moved faster than my thoughts, connecting with his cheek in a loud, resounding slap.

The force of it stung my palm, but the satisfaction of seeing his head whip to the side was worth it. For a brief moment, I expected a reaction—anger, shock, anything—but when he slowly turned his head back to face me, his expression was even colder, if that were possible. He nodded slightly, almost as if acknowledging the slap as nothing more than an annoying inconvenience.

"Of course, we need to talk!" I began, my voice shaking with anger. "You—"

"Hush!" Antonio cut in with a sharp, commanding to