Updated Feb 23, 2026 • ~5 min read
POV: Rory
A week before the court date, I find something.
I’m at the house picking up clothes when I see Celeste’s laptop open on the kitchen table.
I shouldn’t look.
But I do.
She’s texting someone. The messages are still on screen.
Nina: “Did the therapy suggestion work?”
Celeste: “Like a charm. He’s considering it. Rory’s furious.”
Nina: “Perfect. Keep pushing. Make him feel guilty for even thinking about leaving you.”
Celeste: “I am. Yesterday I cried about losing my dance career. He looked devastated.”
Nina: “Good. He needs to remember what you lost. What HE owes you.”
Celeste: “I know. But I feel bad manipulating him.”
Nina: “It’s not manipulation. It’s strategy. You DESERVE to get your husband back.”
My hands shake as I screenshot the conversation.
She IS manipulating him.
I grab my clothes and leave before she comes back from physical therapy.
I show Priya the screenshots.
“Holy shit,” she says. “She’s playing him.”
“I knew it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Show him. Let him see what she’s really doing.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because it looks like you’re stooping to her level. Fighting dirty.”
“She started it.”
“I know. But showing him this… it might backfire. Make him defensive. Protective of her.”
“Or it might open his eyes to what she’s doing.”
Priya looks at the screenshots again.
“Your call. But be careful. This could blow up in your face.”
I text Dominic: “Need to see you. Now. It’s important.”
He meets me at a park near the house.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I show him the screenshots.
Watch his face as he reads.
“Where did you get these?”
“Her laptop was open. I saw them.”
“So you were snooping?”
“I was picking up my clothes from MY house and happened to see a conversation that proves she’s manipulating you.”
Dominic hands back my phone.
“This doesn’t prove anything.”
“Are you kidding? She ADMITS to making you feel guilty on purpose!”
“She’s strategizing with her friend. That’s not manipulation.”
“She’s USING your guilt! Crying about her career to make you choose her!”
“Her pain is REAL, Rory. Whether she uses it strategically or not doesn’t change that she’s suffering.”
“So what—she gets a free pass to manipulate you because she suffered?”
“She’s not—” He stops. Takes a breath. “You’re twisting this.”
“I’m showing you the truth!”
“You’re showing me a private conversation you obtained by invading her privacy.”
“I didn’t invade—the laptop was OPEN—”
“You read her messages without permission. That’s an invasion.”
I stare at him.
“You’re defending her.”
“I’m pointing out that you crossed a line.”
“She crossed a line first by manipulating you!”
“Everyone is manipulating everyone in this situation! You think your ultimatum isn’t manipulation? Your ex showing up isn’t manipulation? We’re all trying to get what we want!”
“I’m trying to save our marriage!”
“By spying on her!”
“By showing you the TRUTH!”
We’re both breathing hard.
Dominic sits on a bench. Puts his head in his hands.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he says quietly.
“Do what?”
“This. All of it. You and Celeste fighting. Everyone taking sides. My mom calling you. Nina calling me. Theo showing up. The lawyers. The court date. I can’t—I’m drowning.”
I sit next to him.
“Then make a choice. End it.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because choosing feels like killing. If I choose you, I destroy Celeste. If I choose her, I destroy you. If I choose neither, I destroy myself.”
“So you’re just… giving up?”
“I’m saying I don’t know how to win. There’s no version of this where everyone’s okay.”
“Then pick the version where YOU’RE okay. What do you want, Dom? Forget guilt. Forget obligation. Forget everyone else. What do YOU want?”
He looks at me.
“I want to go back in time. To before any of this happened. To when life was simple.”
“We can’t go back.”
“I know.”
“So what do we do?”
“I don’t know.”
We sit in silence.
“I’m sorry,” I finally say. “For reading her messages. You’re right. That was wrong.”
“You were desperate. I get it.”
“But she IS manipulating you.”
“Maybe. Or maybe she’s just trying to survive. Like all of us.”
He’s probably right.
We’re all fighting dirty.
Using tears, guilt, lawyers, ultimatums.
All of us trying to survive this impossible situation.
“Court is in six days,” I say.
“I know.”
“The judge is going to ask you to choose.”
“I know.”
“Do you know what you’re going to say?”
He doesn’t answer.
And I realize: he’s still not ready to choose.
After weeks of this. He STILL can’t decide.
“I should go,” I say.
“Rory—”
“No. I’m tired, Dom. I’m tired of fighting. Tired of being second choice. Tired of waiting for you to maybe pick me.”
“I love you.”
“I know. But sometimes love isn’t enough.”
I walk away.
Leave him sitting on that bench.
And I wonder: when did we become these people?
When did love turn into war?
END OF CHAPTER 14
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