András held my hand tightly. I looked at him and, for a brief moment, believed that everything we had built together was still real.

When the final note faded, thunderous applause filled the room. The guests stood up, smiling and clapping for us. We stood there, a little embarrassed, yet deeply touched.

Then András stood up.

“I’d like to say something,” he said, signaling to the waiter to lower the music.

His voice sounded strange. Too tense. Too serious.

My heart tightened.

“Twenty years is a long time,” he continued. “Full of memories, joy, and pain. Two children. Shared dreams. Shared struggles…”

He smiled, but his eyes did not.

“And tonight… I don’t want to lie anymore.”

A heavy silence settled over the room.

I felt his hand grow cold in mine.

“András…?” I whispered.

He turned to me. In his eyes were guilt, fear, and a strange sense of relief.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want this to happen like this. Not here. Not today. But I can’t go on anymore.”

Everyone was staring at us. Eszter had gone pale. Márk sat frozen. Lilla’s eyes filled with tears.

“There is someone else,” he finally admitted.

My world collapsed.

I heard nothing. Only those words.

There is someone else.

“What…?” I breathed.

“It’s been going on for a year,” he went on. “We met at work. I didn’t plan it. But I fell in love.”

My body went numb.

Twenty years.

Shared mornings. Illness. Christmases. Children’s tears. Hopes.

All gone in a second.

“Here? In front of everyone? In front of our children?” I asked, my voice shaking.

“I couldn’t lie to you anymore,” he replied.

I stood up abruptly. The chair scraped loudly across the floor.

“You could have shown me some respect,” I said. “You could have told me in private.”

Márk jumped up.

“Dad, this is cruel,” he shouted. “Do you even realize what you’re doing?”

Lilla broke down in tears.

“How could you do this to Mom?” she sobbed.

András lowered his head.

“I’m sorry…”

But the words were empty.

I walked out onto the terrace. The summer air felt icy against my skin. I was shaking, unsure whether it was from cold or pain.

Eszter wrapped her arms around me.

“You’re strong,” she whispered. “You’ve always been strong.”

But I didn’t feel strong.

I felt betrayed.

Broken.

Hollow.

The evening I had planned for months had turned into a nightmare.

I went home alone.

András didn’t follow.

The apartment was silent. Photos on the walls. Smiles. Illusions.

I sat on the couch and finally cried.

I hadn’t just lost a husband.

I had lost a life.

A past.

A future.

And my belief in forever.