Sorry, I’m Done. You Broke Me.

Wilmer and I were destined forever: engaged at birth, inseparable, our lives intertwined like a single thread. But then the fire came, and with it, her… Madonna. She saved him, and everything I thought I owned, was slowly claimed by her.

“I’ll get you another one, Lucille,” he whispered once, handing her the house we’d chosen together. “Just wait a little longer.”

And I waited. For years. Watched him hand her everything, every gift, every precious thing we had dreamed of sharing. And every time, he promised he’d make it right… But the debt never ended.