Chapter 8 

Part 2 

The lines started to blur. The long nights at the office, fueled by whiskey and ambition, became my escape. Chloe was always there, a willing listener, a source of comfort and 

validation I didn’t realize I was seeking. 

One morning, I woke up in her bed, my head pounding, my stomach churning with a mix of pleasure and shame. I reached for my phone, my fingers hovering over Amelia’s name. I 

had to tell her, to apologize. 

Chloe’s arms wrapped around me, her voice a husky whisper in my ear. 

“Don’t tell her, John. It was just a mistake. She doesn’t need to know.” 

“But it’s wrong,” I mumbled, my voice thick with guilt. 

“No one has to know,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “It can be our little 

secret. Just like your drinking.” 

Her words struck a chord. Amelia hated it when I drank, and I’d gotten good at hiding it 

from her. Was this really so different? 

I convinced myself it was harmless, a way to compartmentalize my guilt. But deep down, I 

knew it was a dangerous game I was playing. 

When Amelia confronted me that night, her voice trembling with suspicion, I panicked. The 

guilt, amplified by alcohol and exhaustion, sent me into a blind rage. I shoved her away, not realizing the extent of my actions until I saw the blood. 

The sight of her, hurt and bleeding because of me, brought me crashing back to reality. 

What had I done? 

Amelia insisted on looking into Chloe, and against my better judgment, I agreed. I watched in horror as she laid out the evidence of Chloe’s past, my stomach twisting with each new 

revelation. 

14:30 

Fake Wedding, True Pain 

82.9% 

Chapter 8 

Relief washed over me when I realized there were no photos of me, no proof of my infidelity. I had kept my secret safe. 

Or so I thought.