Chapter 2 — Shattered Vows
Amelia Hart
Amelia stood in the kitchen, her hands gripping the cold edge of the marble countertop as if it could anchor her to something solid. The text burned in her mind, its words replaying in an endless loop. The faint scar on her left hand, pressed against the countertop, itched in a way it hadn’t in years. Her breath came in shallow bursts, her chest tight with the weight of disbelief and fury. The sterile silence of the apartment wrapped around her like a vice, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator and the muted roar of traffic far below. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city sparkled indifferently, its perfection a mocking contrast to the chaos inside her.
She had paced for what felt like hours, her phone clutched in her hand like a weapon. A dozen scenarios had played out in her mind—accusations, denials, confessions—but none of them prepared her for the moment she would face him. Did she want to hear the truth? Or was she still clinging to the hope, however fragile, that there had been some mistake?
Her heart jumped at the sound of keys in the lock. She froze, her body stiffening as the door swung open. Daniel entered, his tie loosened, his jacket draped over one arm. He exuded the casual confidence he always carried home at the end of a long day, a man who believed he had everything under control. But when his blue eyes landed on her, his steps faltered. He tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he took in her rigid posture and the pale set of her face.
“Hey,” he said cautiously, his voice laced with uncertainty. “Everything okay?”
For a moment, she couldn’t speak. Her hazel eyes locked onto him, scanning his face as if searching for the man she thought she knew. Then, with a voice that cut through the stillness like a blade, she asked, “Who is she?”
The question hung in the air, sharp and unyielding. Daniel froze, his expression a flicker of confusion before settling into something carefully neutral. “What are you talking about?” he said, his tone steady but wary.
She held up her phone, the screen glowing like an accusation. “This,” she said, her voice trembling despite her effort to steady it. “This text, Daniel. You sent it to me by mistake.”
His jaw tightened. He placed his jacket on the back of a chair with deliberate slowness, as if stalling for time. “Amelia, I don’t know what you’re—”
“Don’t.” Her voice cracked like a whip, startling them both. “Don’t lie to me. I’m not stupid, Daniel. I know what this is.”
His gaze dropped to the floor. The silence was deafening, heavier than any words he could have said.
“How long?” she demanded, her voice low but seething with controlled fury. “How long has this been going on?”
He sighed, running a hand through his thinning blond hair—a gesture that once made her smile but now seemed rehearsed, tired. “It’s not what you think,” he said finally, his voice strained.
“Don’t insult me,” she snapped. “Just tell me the truth.”
His shoulders sagged slightly, the smallest crack in his composure. “A few months,” he admitted, the words heavy and reluctant.
Amelia felt the world tilt beneath her feet. She gripped the countertop harder, her knuckles white. “A few months,” she repeated, her voice hollow. “And who is she?”
Daniel hesitated. His gaze darted toward the window, the city lights reflected faintly in his eyes. “Does it matter?” he asked, his tone defensive.
She stepped toward him, her anger bubbling to the surface. “Does it matter?” she echoed incredulously. “Of course it matters! I want to know who the woman is that you thought was worth throwing away our marriage!”
He flinched at her words but didn’t answer.
The silence stretched, and then it hit her. The realization crashed over her like a wave, leaving her breathless. “It’s Sophia, isn’t it?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
His eyes widened, the brief flash of panic in his expression all the confirmation she needed.
“Oh my God,” she breathed, stepping back as if physically struck. “It’s her. My friend. My best friend.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Daniel said quickly, desperation creeping into his voice. “It wasn’t planned. It just… happened.”
She let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and hollow. “It just happened? That’s your excuse? You accidentally tripped and fell into bed with her?”
“It wasn’t about you,” he said, his frustration breaking through. “It wasn’t about us. I was going through a rough time, and she was there. That’s all.”
Her chest heaved as she stared at him, disbelief and fury warring within her. “Not about me? Not about us?” she said, her voice shaking. “How dare you reduce our marriage to something so insignificant?”
“Amelia, I know I screwed up,” he said, his composure unraveling. He rubbed his temples, his movements jerky. “I’m not trying to justify it. I know it was wrong. I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”
“How far did it go, Daniel?” she asked, her tone icy. “Tell me everything.”
He looked away, his silence answering for him.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I can’t do this,” she said finally, her voice breaking. “I can’t even look at you right now.”
She turned on her heel, her bare feet padding across the hardwood floor. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anger, betrayal, heartbreak—but above all, a crushing sense of loss.
In their bedroom, she grabbed a pillow and a blanket, her movements mechanical. She couldn’t stay in this room, in this bed, with him. Not tonight.
As she passed him on her way to the guest room, he reached out, his hand brushing her arm. “Amelia, wait.”
She stopped but didn’t turn to face him. “What?”
“Please,” he said softly. “Don’t let this destroy us.”
She laughed, a bitter, tear-laced sound. “Destroy us? Daniel, you already did that.”
Without another word, she walked down the hall and closed the door behind her. She leaned against it, sliding down to the floor as sobs wracked her body.
The sterile guest room offered no comfort, its minimalist décor as cold and impersonal as the life she now realized she’d been living. She curled up on the bed, clutching the pillow tightly as the city lights flickered through the blinds.
For the first time in years, she let herself cry—not the restrained, dignified tears she was used to, but raw, unfiltered sobs that left her breathless. Images of Sophia’s laughter, Daniel’s smile, and the life they had built together played in her mind, now tinged with betrayal.
And yet, somewhere deep within the pain, a small, stubborn ember of resolve began to glow. She stared at the faint outline of the city skyline through the blinds, her breath catching as a thought crept into her mind.
This wasn’t over. Not yet.
