Dancing with Time

When love fades...

Heartbreak. It's like a knife, a physical knife stabbing you in your weakest areas. Heartbreak. Indeed, the pain will fade, but there will always be a scar. After Heartbreak, you trust less. You're careful about who you let in. You're afraid they are all going to hurt you. Heartbreak leads to more Heartbreak. Heartbreak shatters once good lives ― Victoria Jennings

The fluorescent lights of the finance floor buzzed like angry bees as Keith strode through, a freshly brewed latte clutched in his hand. Suddenly, a clumsy intern collided with him, sending the scalding liquid cascading down his pristine white shirt. A jolt of anger sparked in his eyes as he watched the dark brown stain bloom. Without a word, he stalked back to his office, the steam rising from his shirt mirroring the heat radiating from his frustration.

Reaching for his spare clothes drawer, his stomach plummeted. Empty. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips. He barked an order to his secretary, rescheduling his 2 pm meeting just for the privilege of changing into something that wasn't singed and reeking of coffee.

His mansion, usually a haven of cool marble and hushed whispers, felt eerily quiet upon entering. Juliet wasn't home yet. Heaving himself onto the grand staircase, he ascended towards their bedroom. Reaching for the doorknob, a premonition of unease slithered down his spine.

He pushed the door open, and the air crackled. The room, usually a sanctuary of soft linens and muted tones, resembled a battlefield. Feminine garments, far too revealing for Juliet's taste, lay scattered like discarded petals of a rose he never offered. The bed, tangled and rumpled sheets, bore the unmistakable imprint of frantic movement - one he hadn't been a part of. A suffocating dread coiled in his gut, the scent of betrayal clinging to the air like a venomous vine.  A cold dread seeped into Keith's bones. Before he could react, a voice, sugary-sweet and dripping with malice, cut through the thick tension.

"Hello, babe!" Cassandra stood by the door, a provocative silhouette draped in his shirt, a stark contrast to the innocence that usually adorned his wife. His steel-gray eyes narrowed into icy slits.

Fury ignited in his steel-gray eyes. "What in God's name are you doing here?" The words were a growl, a tremor that shook the very foundation of the room. The urge to unleash his wrath on the guards who'd allowed this viper into his sanctuary was a physical ache. The calm, collected facade he usually wore shattered, replaced by a primal rage that threatened to consume him.

Cassandra, oblivious to the storm brewing within him, purred, "Don't be so grumpy, darling," batting her heavily mascaraed eyelashes. A sickeningly sweet smile played on her lips.  "I simply removed the obstacle that stood between us. Now, it's just you and me."

"Obstacle?" Keith spat, his voice a low tremor. "What did you do to Juliet?" he demanded, his voice a low growl. The image of his wife, heartbroken and tearful, flashed in his mind, a stark contrast to the manipulative woman before him. 

A cruel smile stretched across Cassandra's lips. "Oh, it wasn't much, honey," Cassandra drawled, batting her eyelashes. "Just a little nudge in the right direction. All it took was the sound of your shower, the sight of me in your clothes, and voila! The naive girl practically ran out of here, tears streaming down her face."

With each word, a fresh wave of fury washed over Keith. He could almost feel the phantom sting of Juliet's tears, the weight of her pain. He lunged forward, only to be stopped by the mocking laughter bubbling from Cassandra's lips.

"Relax, Keith, baby," she purred, her hand reaching out to stroke his arm. He recoiled, the touch a searing brand. "Now, where were we?"

But Keith wouldn't be swayed. He shoved her hand away, his voice a steely snarl. "I am nothing of yours. You are a mistake, a relic of a past I'd rather forget. Now, get out. And if you value your life, you won't come back."