Chapter 2The Secret Mistress Behind My Eight-Year Relationship

The text messages kept flooding in, lighting up my screen in the dark apartment.

Noah told me everything about your severe depression. He said you're mentally unstable, and he's terrified to actually pull the plug.

He's scared you'll do something crazy if he leaves.

That's why he's been stringing you along, throwing you a few hundred bucks a month to keep you quiet and pacified.

I stared at the word pacified. A bitter, acidic knot twisted in my stomach.

I typed out a single line. How much did he tell you about me?

Stella replied instantly.

I know all of it.

I know your mom lost her mind and jumped off a balcony.

I know you were bullied growing up, and I know about the scars on your wrists from high school.

Noah said he's been taking care of you for years, but he is completely drained.

He said you're like a black hole. No matter how much love he pours into you, it's never enough.

My hand hovered over the keyboard. I couldn't form a single word.

Those memories were a dark abyss. It took me over a decade to crawl my way out of that hell.

It took me years of therapy to finally stop waking up screaming in the middle of the night, to walk down a dark street without trembling, to finally look in the mirror and smile.

Noah had always told me my scars weren't a burden to him.

He promised me, looking dead into my eyes, that he would take those secrets to his grave.

And now, a woman he had known for less than three years knew exactly where all my deepest, most agonizing wounds were hidden.

Stella's messages kept coming.

Look, I'm not trying to hurt you.

When we first met, he didn't mention he had a girlfriend. When he finally confessed, I told him I'd wait for him to handle it.

But we truly love each other. Look at what he got me for my birthday last month.

A photo popped up.

A diamond Tiffany pendant resting on a massive bouquet of crimson roses.

The attached card read, Happy Birthday, Stella. You are my forever.

My birthday was last month too.

Noah had sent me a text. Happy birthday. I'll make you noodles when I get home.

He didn't even buy me a single flower.

He boiled some instant noodles, said he was exhausted from work, and went straight to bed.

I sat alone at the small kitchen table, eating the noodles, genuinely believing I was lucky to have a man who worked so hard for our future.

Stella sent a voice memo.

I tapped play. A sweet, deliberately delicate voice filled the quiet room.

"Anna, Noah only loves me. He says you're suffocating him. Do both of yourselves a favor and just let him go, okay?"

I locked my phone and walked out onto the tiny balcony.

The night wind bit at my face.

Down on the street, the yellow glow of the streetlights washed over the pedestrians. Everyone was moving so fast. Nobody stopped.

I stood there for a very long time, staring out at the city until my shoulders went numb from the cold.

When I finally stepped back inside, I picked up my phone and sent one last reply.

Thank you for telling me.

She replied instantly. So you're finally going to back off?

I didn't answer.

Two days later, Noah quietly unlocked the front door.

His luggage still had the airport tags on it, and he had changed into a fresh button-down shirt.

When he saw me sitting on the worn-out sofa, he offered a tired smile and handed me a small plastic shopping bag.

"Hey, Aud. The business trip was insane, but I managed to grab you some of that fudge you like."

I took the bag.

It was a five-dollar box of stale fudge you could find at any gas station. He went on a "business trip" and brought me back five-dollar candy.

He bought the other woman a twenty-five-thousand-dollar diamond ring.

I looked up at his face. I spoke slowly, enunciating every single syllable.

"Noah, where exactly did you go for this business trip?"

"Seattle," he lied effortlessly.

"Then why did Stella post a photo of you two on a beach in Cabo two days ago?"

The living room fell dead silent.

The tired smile completely froze on Noah's face.

He slowly walked over and sat on the far end of the sofa, interlacing his fingers, staring down at the scuffed floorboards.

A long time passed before he finally spoke.

"You know everything."

It wasn't a question.

It was a hollow, emotionless sigh.