I carry the weight of my betrayal every day—it clings to me like a shadow I can’t escape. Every glance from him feels heavier now, as if he’s silently asking why I did it, even though he hasn’t spoken those words. I see the pain I caused reflected in his eyes, and it breaks me all over again. It was a selfish, fleeting moment of weakness that unraveled everything we had built over the years.

I hate myself for it, but self-loathing won’t fix what I broke. That’s why I’m determined to rebuild the trust I shattered, brick by brick, no matter how long it takes. He deserves that. He deserves more than my apologies—he deserves my unwavering commitment to making things right.

It’s not easy. Sometimes, he retreats into silence, and I know it’s because he’s replaying the betrayal in his mind. Those moments hurt the most, but I’ve learned to stay patient. I’ve stopped making excuses, stopped expecting forgiveness to come quickly. Instead, I’ve begun to show him, in every small act, that I’m here, fully present, and deeply sorry.

I’ve started writing him letters, explaining how much I love him and regret my actions. I’ve prioritized his needs and his healing, putting my own guilt aside. I don’t know if we’ll ever be the same, but I refuse to let this be the end of us. He is the best part of my life, and I’ll spend the rest of it proving that to him.