David knew my parents had always favored Laura and that I’d grown up in that house quietly swallowing every injustice. I had longed desperately for him to be the one who would stand by me unshakably. 

Yet, instead, he was chasing some fantasy of being a valiant knight rescuing a poisoned princess, and erased me completely.

That kitchen had carried so many of my hopes and dreams. Every warm moment I had there still lived vividly in my memory.

Now, piece by piece, it was being dismantled.

Soon, it was gone entirely. In its place was a spacious walk-in closet.

Just like my life, Laura had overwritten and replaced it.

In the back corner of the former kitchen, a small photo frame had been left behind.

David quietly picked it up, slipped my photo out of it, and tucked it into his shirt pocket.

Back at the hotel, the sous-chef pulled David aside.

Apparently, I hadn’t shown up for work in a while. They had to bring in temp chefs to cover the banquet orders booked by clients who weren’t happy. There were lots of complaints about the food.

David’s face darkened. Without a word, he whipped out his phone and dialed my number.

Still, there was no answer.

His usual calm shattered. He spun around and overturned one of the banquet hall tables.

That day, he had formally terminated my employment, citing absenteeism. Then, he announced Laura, who had never studied cooking, as the new head pastry chef.

In the hotel suite, David finally gave in to Laura’s temptation.

He and Laura tumbled into bed together, their limbs tangled.

The passion didn’t stop there. They hooked up on the office desk, even in the storage closet, inseparable and insatiable, like teenagers drunk on new love.

I watched it all, my stomach twisting in knots. Instinctively, I cradled my slightly swollen belly.

How could I have been so blinded by love, believing his promises to me? I hated myself for it.