Suddenly, his family started speaking softly in French, assuming I couldn’t follow. I didn’t let on. I smiled, nodded, and kept eating like everything was fine.
But then I heard it. His sister leaned in and asked, “Does she know about the other girl yet?”
I froze for a second, but kept my composure. I reached for my napkin, dabbed my lips, and turned to him. Then, in fluent French, I said, “No, but she does now.”
The silence was instant. His parents were stunned. He looked like the ground had opened beneath him.
I got up, calmly gathered my things, and left. I booked the first flight back on my own and blocked him on every platform. No calls, no texts—just silence.
Yes, I’m heartbroken. I didn’t expect my efforts to fit in to lead to this moment. But at the same time, I feel strong. I trusted my gut, I didn’t make a scene, and I left with dignity.
The “other girl” can have him, along with his dishonesty and secrets. I deserve someone who doesn’t speak in code to hide betrayal.
Any advice on where to go from here?
