Chapter 42: Twisted Lies: Chapter 42

I waited until the door shut behind him before I collapsed.

Sobs wracked my body as I sank onto the floor and finally let the full flood of my tears flow.

The words echoed in my head like a taunt, as did the image of Christian’s face before he left.

The agony in his eyes. The torment in his voice. The brokenness that I felt as surely as if it were my own because it My heart had splintered into a thousand jagged pieces, and they cut and cut until I couldn’t stop bleeding.

It was very possible I might die right there, with my knees drawn to my chest and my trust in shambles.

I believed he was sorry, and I believed he loved me in whatever way he knew how.

But they didn’t change the fact that our relationship had been built on a lie. He how much the stalker had traumatized me. How much I hated the invasion of privacy and loss of control over my own life.

Christian did what he did before the stalker showed up, but he’d sat on those files for years and never told me.

He’d held all the cards while I held only the scraps he gave me.

Our power imbalance wasn’t about money or security; it was about trust. I’d always given more than I received from him.

The thought of him sitting at his desk and poking through the most intimate parts of my life with a mere press of a button sent another shiver down my spine.

I pulled my legs tighter to my chest and buried my face in my knees.

I’d seen all the warning signs and ignored them because I’d been too caught up in the excitement of falling in love for the first time.

I should’ve been happy Christian was gone. Instead, my heart hollowed in my chest while a barrage of memories played in my head.

One week ago, we’d been in Italy, and we’d been happy.

Part of me wished I’d never stumbled across that secret compartment or looked through those files. Then we’d still be happy, and I wouldn’t be sitting in the ruins of what we used to be.

Christian was the only safe space I had, and now he was gone.

My gasping sobs filled the cocoon of my arms and legs. I’d been crying so hard and for so long that my ribs hurt and I couldn’t draw enough oxygen into my lungs.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t—I needed…

“Stella?”

I heard Ava’s voice followed by a knock, but the sounds were muted, like they were traveling to me underwater.

I was drowning in grief, and I didn’t know how to pull myself out.

“It’s okay.” Ava’s voice was closer. She must’ve entered when I didn’t answer. “Oh, sweetie, it’ll be all right. I promise.”

She wrapped her arms around me and rubbed soothing circles on my back while I leaned my head against her chest and cried until I ran out of tears.

Part of me had anticipated this crash from the beginning. My relationship with Christian had been too perfect, and nothing that good could last forever.

What I hadn’t anticipated was how much the crash would break me.

But the most terrifying part wasn’t my broken heart. It was the possibility that I might never be able to glue the pieces back together again.