The End

Aurora had always imagined heartbreak would feel like a sharp, sudden pain, like a knife to the chest, immediate and devastating. As she stood frozen in the doorway of the dimly lit apartment she had shared with Shawn for the last three years; she realized heartbreak wasn’t always so dramatic. Sometimes, it was quiet, and slow; almost a numb, creeping sensation that started at the edges of her mind and worked its way inward, wrapping around her like a vice.

The sounds came first, the unmistakable rhythm of bodies moving, breathy moans that didn’t belong to her. Then, the scent of sweat and perfume, thick and suffocating, filling the space like a cruel confirmation. And finally, the sight of them, Shawn’s body hovering over another woman, his fingers gripping bare skin the same way they had gripped her just days ago. Limbs tangled as one, lost in a passionate embrace on the edge of ecstasy.

Aurora’s grip on the takeout bag in her hand tightened until the paper crumpled beneath her fingers. She had just wanted to do something nice, to pick up his favorite meal, come home early, and maybe, just maybe, have a night where she didn’t feel like she was walking on eggshells. Life, it seemed, had other plans.

Shawn barely flinched when he noticed her standing there. He didn’t jump up in shock or stammer out an apology. No, his reaction was something far worse. He simply sighed, irritated, as if she were an inconvenience rather than the woman who had given him everything. The woman who had endured every cruel word, every manipulative game, every moment of self-doubt he had planted in her like tiny seeds, watching them grow until she no longer recognized herself. The woman that had worked tirelessly, handing over every cent she made barley keeping any for herself. The woman that didn’t complain even after working long hours about the dinners he demanded she make, or the home she kept spotless.

"Aurora," he drawled, pushing away from the bed as if she were the one at fault for interrupting. "Don’t fucking start."

Her chest tightened, a mix of rage and disbelief clawing at her throat. "Don’t start?" she repeated, her voice shaking. "I just walked in on you, and this whore in our bed.”

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Oh, don’t be dramatic. You knew this was coming."

The words sliced through her, sharper than if he had screamed at her. How could he say that she knew this was coming? Was that supposed to mean he had been doing this all along? That the last three years had all been for nothing? That she was a fool for not seeing it? Her mind spinning with questions.

The woman in his bed barely reacted. She just smirked, stretching lazily as if this were nothing more than a minor inconvenience to her night. "He told me you were too pathetic to leave," she said, her voice sounding sickly sweet and laced with cruelty. "Guess he was right."

Aurora’s nails dug into her palm. Maybe six months ago, maybe even last week, she would have swallowed this moment. She would have let the shame settle deep in her bones, let the humiliation keep her silent. She would have believed the lies that Shawn had spent years whispering in her ear, that she was nothing without him, that no one else would want her, that she should be grateful for whatever scraps of love he decided to toss her way.

Not tonight though, the rose-colored glasses had been violently ripped away and shattered. Feeling as if the fog that she had been living in had finally lifted, Aurora now understood that he was never going to change. Shawn would never be her prince charming, hell at this point she wasn’t even sure if he deserved the dignity of even being considered a frog.

Something inside her cracked wide open, and instead of fear, all she felt was anger. Not just at Shawn, but at herself, for letting it get this far, for believing she deserved this, for staying when she should have run.

She took a slow, steady breath and dropped the takeout bag onto the floor, letting it land with a dull thud. Shawn’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as if he could already sense the shift in her. He thrived on control, and for the first time in years, she wasn’t giving it to him.

"I’m leaving," she said, voice firmer than it had been in a long time.

Shawn scoffed. "Don’t be stupid. You have nowhere else to go, and no one else is stupid enough to take care of you."

"No, Shawn," she said, stepping back, her fingers curling around the strap of her purse. "I’ve been stupid for too long, but I’m done now."

He moved fast. Too fast. One second, she was turning toward the door, the next, his hand was wrapped around her wrist in a bruising grip, yanking her back. She gasped, stumbling, the sharp press of his fingers, a painful reminder of just how strong he was. The first tendrils of fear ignited in her blood.

"You think you can just walk out?" he hissed, his breath hot against her skin. "You think I’m gonna let you?"

A chill ran down her spine. She had seen him angry before, seen the way his temper flared when he didn’t get his way, but this was different. This wasn’t just frustration. This was possession. Shawn didn’t like it when his toys didn’t do what he wanted them to do. That is all he sees her as, another one of his toys.

"Let me go, Shawn," she said, keeping her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.

He yanked her closer, his fingers digging in deeper. "You leave, and you’ll regret it."

Aurora swallowed hard. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

His lips curled into a smirk, but there was nothing amusing about it. "You forget, babe. I know things about you. Things you wouldn’t want to get out. I know about how you lived before. I picked you up out of the gutter, and I won’t hesitate to remind everyone of who you really are."

Her stomach twisted. "Are you seriously threatening me?"

Shawn shrugged. "Call it whatever you want. But don’t think for a second you can just walk away from me without consequences. You think you’re strong enough to make it on your own?" His grip tightened. "You’re nothing without me, Aurora. Nothing."

The words should have broken her. Once, they would have, but not anymore.

She looked him in the eye, and for the first time in years, she saw him for exactly what he was. A coward. A man who needed to tear her down to keep her beneath him. A man so weak that the only way he knew how to feel powerful was by making her feel small.

She smiled. A small, defiant thing.

"Then you’re gonna hate watching me prove you wrong."

With every ounce of strength she had, she twisted her wrist free and shoved him back. He stumbled, momentarily caught off guard. Auroa didn’t hesitate, she spun on her heel, bolted for the door, and threw it open.

"Aurora!" Shawn’s voice was sharp, filled with a warning she no longer cared to heed.

She didn’t stop.

Didn’t look back.

For the first time in years, she was running toward something rather than away.

And for the first time in years, she knew she was never going back.