https://wordcasters.jobzaps.com/fire-burns-without-mercy-victor-jenkins-1/ As the meal progressed into its later stages, Jennifer’s attention toward Theodore became almost palpable. She was like a hawk, meticulously piling food onto his plate, her enthusiasm unrestrained. Among the delicacies was shrimp, the very thing Theodore had a severe allergy to.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he picked up the shrimp and popped it into his mouth, chewing away blissfully.

“Tastes good, right?” Jennifer asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Yeah. Good,” he replied, his voice clipped yet somehow content.

The table erupted in laughter, a cacophony of joy that filled the air around us. “Theo’s reply may be short, but he’s definitely enjoying the feast Jen prepared,” someone chimed in, the teasing lilt in their voice unmistakable.

“Hey, at least she got a reaction out of him. When Vanessa asked him the same thing just a moment ago, he didn’t even spare her a glance. Guess he’s just trying to play it cool with all of us,” another friend added, chuckling.

“We all know what’s brewing here. Better start saving up for that wedding gift!”

In the midst of the lively banter, I found myself ensconced in a quiet corner, an observer in a world that seemed to revolve around everyone but me. Theodore and I had been married for five years, yet he was adamant that our relationship appeared unprofessional at the university. So, I had spun a tale about him working out of town for an extended period.

At gatherings like this, I made it a point to sit as far from him as possible, a silent concession to the charade we were forced to maintain. And now, I was reduced to watching him be courted by someone else, the irony not lost on me.

“Everyone has to bring a plus-one to the reception,” Jennifer laughed, her gaze swiveling toward me like a spotlight. “Vanessa, you should bring your husband too! It’s been ages since we’ve seen him, and all we have is that one photo of his back on your Instagram.”

Her tone shifted, taking on a teasing edge. “Does he forbid you from making it official? Or… is it the kind of relationship that has to be kept in the shadows?”

The atmosphere in the room thickened, a tension rising as dozens of eyes turned to scrutinize me. Yet Theodore kept his head down, focused on his plate, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing around us.

My heart plummeted.

I recalled the divorce papers tucked away in my bag, a bitter reminder of the reality I was trying to escape. “Theo, what do you think?” I ventured, my voice barely above a whisper.

Theodore paused, his fork hovering mid-air, annoyance etched across his features. “What does that have to do with me? How would I know about your business with your husband?”

His words were like daggers, sharp and unyielding.

He shot me a warning glare that could freeze fire.

“Exactly,” Jennifer chimed in, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “Nessa, there’s no need to feel embarrassed. A marriage certificate is just a piece of paper. It’s not like it’s as practical as a limited edition Hermès bag, right?”

Her insinuation drew disdainful looks from those seated at the table, but I felt the sting of her words cut deeper. I had once encountered Jennifer at a store and, in an effort to protect Theodore’s identity, had lied about the bag, claiming my husband had gifted it to me. I hadn’t realized she had tucked that information away, ready to wield it like a weapon when the moment was ripe.

I let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “Why should I be embarrassed that my husband bought me a bag?”

Then I turned to Jennifer, my voice laced with challenge. “You seem awfully interested in him—are you trying to steal him from me?”

In an instant, her smile vanished, and she shot a quick glance at Theodore. My stomach dropped. Did she know? Did she suspect? The thought was more unsettling than if she had no clue at all.

In the heavy silence that followed, her eyes began to glisten with unshed tears.

“Nessa, I didn’t mean anything by it. I didn’t know you were so sensitive about it… Please don’t be mad,” she stammered, her voice trembling.

Suddenly, she snatched Theodore’s wine glass, downed its contents in one go, and collapsed into his arms, coughing and sputtering, her eyes wide with panic.

Theodore frowned immediately, turning to me with an accusatory glare. “Do you realize how cruel you sounded? Does assuming the worst of everyone make you feel superior?”

I stared at him, my heart racing, the words tumbling from my lips deliberately. “Was I the one who started it?”

“She was just asking out of curiosity!” Theodore’s voice was frigid, slicing through the air. “Do you have to be so aggressive?”

He held Jennifer protectively, glaring at me across the table, a sight that twisted my insides.

Yet, he was my husband.

A friend intervened, attempting to smooth over the situation. “Vanessa, don’t hold it against Jen. She’s young, and she doesn’t always think before she speaks.”

“Theo is already protecting his future wife. Nessa, just let it go for his sake,” another added, their tone patronizing.

“Yeah, stop fighting. It’s unnecessary. We all know you aren’t a gold digger,” someone else chimed in, their words like salt in an open wound.

I felt a vein throb at Theodore’s temple, a telltale sign that he was on the verge of exploding. All this for a manipulative woman who had slandered me.

A wave of exhaustion crashed over me, heavy and suffocating. I was utterly done with this marriage.

With one last, lingering look at Theodore, I turned on my heel and strode out of the hotel, leaving behind Jennifer, who was now sobbing softly.

Once I was inside the car, I fished out the divorce papers from my bag, my heart racing.

Just a few days prior, I had handed Theodore a stack of papers, and in a moment of carelessness, I had mixed the divorce documents into the pile. He had signed without a second glance, completely oblivious to the contents. All I needed to do was sign my name.

Suddenly, a tube of lipstick rolled out of my bag, its bright red color a stark reminder of the life I had once hoped for. Just hours earlier, Theodore had kissed me in the passenger seat, his earlobes tinged with a blush as he told me about a junior in his research group who had bought a similar one for his girlfriend.

I had applied it immediately, even though it was a dark orange-red shade—the very color I despised.

A flicker of hope ignited in my mind, one I knew I shouldn’t entertain. “Maybe I should talk to him,” I reasoned, making excuses. “I’ll sign after that.”

As I finished the pack of cigarettes, the group from the dinner emerged from the hotel, their laughter dying abruptly when they spotted me.

“Where is Theodore?” I demanded, a sense of urgency creeping into my voice.

No one answered. Instead, they began to lecture me.

“Nessa, look, we know you like Theo. But… you’re married.”

“Have you considered your husband’s feelings? He even bought you that expensive bag.”

“This is cheating. Though it’s emotional cheating, it’s still cheating…”

I inhaled deeply, cutting them off. “So, where the heck did he go?”

“Theo took Jen upstairs to get a room,” someone replied, their tone laced with sympathy. “She got drunk and refused to go back to the dorms.”

I glanced down at the scattered cigarette butts on the concrete, feeling like a complete fool.