In our fight, I saw the cracks in our trust,
But love, like time, healed all that was just.
Joanne sat alone in her bedroom, her hands cradling a mug of lukewarm tea. The sunlight streaming through the window was too bright, mocking her dark thoughts. Every interaction with Paxton over the past few weeks replayed in her mind—a puzzle she couldn't solve. He was warm one moment, distant the next, his words coated in doubt she knew didn't come from him.
It all pointed back to Amy.
Joanne had tried to be patient, to understand Paxton's loyalty to his sister, but her patience had worn thin. How could she compete with someone so ingrained in his life? Every time she thought they were making progress, Amy's influence pulled him back.
A knock at the door startled her. Ethan's voice followed, calm and steady as always.
"Jo, it's me. Can I come in?"
"Yeah," she called, setting her mug on the bedside table.
Ethan entered, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. He was carrying his usual air of quiet confidence, the kind that made Joanne feel both reassured and exposed.
"You've been holed up in here all day," he said, sitting at the edge of her bed. "What's going on?"
Joanne sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Nothing. Just thinking."
"About Paxton?" Ethan asked knowingly.
Joanne winced. "Partly. Mostly about Amy and how she's... everywhere. She's like this shadow I can't escape, and Paxton doesn't even see it."
Ethan leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Have you talked to him about it?"
"I've tried," Joanne said, her voice tinged with frustration. "But every time, it feels like I'm talking to a wall. He's so wrapped up in his family's drama, I don't think he even knows what he wants anymore."
Ethan studied her for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Jo, you can't let Amy dictate how you feel about yourself or your relationship. This isn't about her. It's about you and Paxton. Do you still want to be with him?"
Joanne hesitated, the answer tangled in her mind. "I do. But not like this. I can't keep fighting for someone who doesn't see me clearly."
Ethan nodded, his tone gentle but firm. "Then maybe it's time to stop fighting. Trust yourself, Jo. You don't need Amy's approval, and you sure as hell don't need to let her control your life."
While Joanne wrestled with her doubts, Amy was busy weaving her web. She had always been good at making people listen to her—a skill that now served her darker intentions.
It started small. A casual comment at lunch with mutual friends.
"I just don't think Joanne's as invested in Paxton as he is in her," Amy said, stirring her coffee with exaggerated nonchalance. "He's always the one making the effort. She's... distant."
The seed was planted. Over the next few days, Amy nurtured it, dropping hints and raising eyebrows.
"I heard Joanne canceled their plans again," she told another friend, feigning concern. "Poor Pax. He's trying so hard."
By the end of the week, the whispers had grown into full-fledged speculation. Joanne was cold. Joanne was selfish. Joanne didn't deserve someone like Paxton.
Amy watched it all unfold with a sense of grim satisfaction. She wasn't proud of what she was doing—at least, that's what she told herself—but she couldn't stop. Paxton had always been her anchor, her confidant. She couldn't stand the thought of losing him to someone like Joanne, someone who didn't even seem to care.
The rumors reached Joanne in bits and pieces, carried by the same friends who had once greeted her with warm smiles. Now, their gazes were hesitant, their words carefully measured.
"Is everything okay with you and Paxton?" one of them asked during a group hangout. "He seems... upset lately."
Joanne froze, her throat tightening. "What do you mean?"
"Well," the friend said, glancing around nervously, "Amy mentioned you've been distant. And, you know, people talk."
Joanne's stomach churned. She forced a smile, her voice steady despite the storm inside. "Everything's fine. Thanks for asking."
But it wasn't fine. The isolation crept in, gnawing at her confidence. Everywhere she turned, there seemed to be another reminder that she was losing the battle.
Ethan noticed the change in Joanne almost immediately. She was quieter, more withdrawn, her usual spark dimmed. He confronted her one evening while they were watching TV, the screen flickering with muted colors.
"Jo, talk to me," he said, lowering the volume. "Something's been bothering you. I can tell."
Joanne sighed, sinking deeper into the couch. "It's Amy. She's spreading lies about me, and now everyone thinks I'm this awful person."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "What kind of lies?"
"She's saying I don't care about Paxton, that I'm the problem in our relationship," Joanne said, her voice breaking. "And people believe her. Why wouldn't they? She's his sister. She's known him forever."
Ethan's eyes softened, but his voice remained firm. "Listen to me, Jo. You don't owe anyone an explanation except Paxton. Let Amy say whatever she wants. The truth will come out eventually."
Joanne shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "It's not that simple, Ethan. She's turning everyone against me. I feel like I'm losing everything."
Ethan reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You're not losing everything. You still have me. And as long as I'm here, you won't go through this alone."
Meanwhile, Paxton was starting to feel the weight of the rumors too. Everywhere he went, people seemed to have an opinion about Joanne, and none of them were good. At first, he brushed it off, assuming they were just exaggerations. But the more he heard, the harder it was to ignore.
One evening, he confronted Amy, his tone sharper than usual. "What have you been telling people about Joanne?"
Amy feigned innocence, her eyes widening. "What do you mean? I haven't said anything that isn't true."
"Don't play dumb, Amy," Paxton snapped. "I know you've been spreading rumors. People are saying things about her that only you would know."
Amy crossed her arms, her expression hardening. "Maybe if Joanne treated you better, I wouldn't have anything to talk about."
Paxton stared at her, his anger bubbling to the surface. "This isn't about Joanne. It's about you not knowing how to let go. Why can't you just let me be happy?"
Amy's face fell, her defenses crumbling for a brief moment. "Because I'm scared, Pax. I'm scared she's going to take you away from me."
Paxton sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No one's taking me away, Amy. But you're pushing me away with all this. I need you to stop."
Amy looked down, her voice barely a whisper. "I don't know if I can."
That night, Paxton lay in bed, his mind racing. He couldn't ignore the tension any longer. Joanne was pulling away, and Amy's actions were driving a wedge between them. Something had to change, but he didn't know where to start.
For the first time, he wondered if he had been wrong to trust Amy so blindly. And for the first time, he realized he might lose Joanne if he didn't act soon.
The thought terrified him. But it also gave him the resolve to do what he should have done all along: fight for Joanne, not against her.