Page 176 of Beautiful Lies

He falters. Just for a second. Like someone pulled the floor out from under him.

“You don’t mean that.” His voice tightens. “You’re upset right now. You’re vulnerable. You can’t think straight.”

“I’m upset, sure. But there are two things I know for sure right now. That’s one of them. The other is that I’m not confused about Knox.”

He stares back at me as if I just poured acid on his heart. “No. You don’t love Knox Vale. You couldn’t?—”

“I do, Chad. I love him. I fell in love withhim. And you’re right. He didn’t choose me. And that hurts deeply because Ilovehim.” The words come out quiet but certain enough to shake the air between us.

Chad’s face contorts, fury bleeding through the desperation. “God. But he forced you into this.”

“He’s not forcing me now,” I speak quietly back. “There you are, standing there with our biggest secret in your hands. If I were being forced, I’d be denying that contract. But I’m not. I’m standing here telling you the truth.”

His breathing turns rough, like each inhale scrapes against the truth settling in. I watch it hit him—the moment my words finally sink in. And in his eyes, something breaks. That splintered look says everything:

She doesn’t want me anymore. And she never will.

His mouth opens then closes. His expression twists with a cacophony of emotion—anger, disbelief, and the deepest sadness.

But he says nothing more. He turns away from me and heads to the door, opening it with one sharp pull. Then he’s gone.

The door swings shut, the click reverberating in my already broken heart.

Silence rushes back in.

I stand there for a long moment, staring at the empty space he left, at the quiet hallway, at nothing and everything.

Then my knees give a little.

I lean against the wall, trembling.

Everything is too much again. Everything.

Chad.

Knox.

The restaurant.

It all presses down on me at once, a weight I can’t hold.

Mom.

I need her. I’m sure she would have heard all of that.

She went upstairs to lie down, but we were loud. There’s no way she would have rested.

I push off the door and climb the staircase, each step feeling heavier than the last, but I keep going.

“Mom?” I call out. But there’s no answer. “Mom, are you okay?”

Still no answer.

A cold ripple crawls up my spine, and I hurry up the stairs.

I rush into her bedroom and stumble when I find her lying on the floor.

“Mom!” I scream, racing to her side “Mom!”