My gaze instinctively dropped to where their hands were intertwined, and my eyes followed Hunter's—steadfast, soft, full of a tenderness I hadn't seen in months. He looked at Navira with a care and devotion that made my stomach churn, a stark contrast to the cold distance he'd shown me before.
Seeing them stand there, hands intertwined, talking about their betrayal with such brazen confidence, a callous lack of remorse, felt like a physical blow, a slap across both cheeks.
A wave of anguish, sharp and sickening, washed over me. My heart felt like it had been ripped from my chest and crushed beneath Hunter's feet. The pain was both excruciating and strangely numb.
Navira had always had the best of everything—beauty, popularity, clothes, the world seemed to hand her everything on a silver platter. College admissions, even those were effortlessly hers. Everything I had strived for, everything I'd prayed for, seemed to be Navira's birthright.
And now, the one thing that I thought I possessed, the one thing that I believed was mine, had been snatched away right under my nose, Navira's claws sinking into it with a cold efficiency.
I wanted to cry, but the well of tears had dried up. I tried to scream, but my voice was lost, trapped somewhere in the suffocating grip of my despair. I wanted to turn on my heels and run as far away from them as I could, but my limbs had failed me as well.
All I could do was stare at them with disappointment and pain.
"I want to keep my baby, Nova. I am an honorable man, I cannot..." Hunter started to say.
I cut him off, a sound of hysterical laughter erupting, followed by a harsh snort. "Honorable, you say? You call yourself honorable? Is this some kind of honor among thieves movie to you?!"
Navira rolled her eyes. "Come on, Nova, we didn't mean it like..."
"How long has this been going on?" My voice was a low growl, my eyes burning with hatred as I fixed them both.
"Six months," Navira answered, her voice flat.
My blood ran cold. The pieces clicked into place. Six months of Hunter's constant absences, six months of cancelled plans, the excuses, the evasions – all of it. Now I understood.
"Six months," I repeated, my voice barely a whisper, the word catching in my throat.
"I'm so sorry, Nova, we wanted Mom and Dad to tell you, but..." Navira began, her voice dripping with feigned remorse.
My head snapped to the side as tears finally welled up and spilled over. "Mom and Dad knew?"
Navira nodded, her brown eyes flickering with mock guilt and crocodile tears, a sinister smile barely hiding her true feelings. I wanted to lash out, to shake her, to scream at her for lying, for hiding this from me all along. But instead, I took trembling steps backward, feeling my world shatter beneath me.
Navira reached out, her hand hovering in the air, but I jerked away before she could touch me.
"P-Please tell me this is a j-joke! The both of you are just lying to me!" I screamed, my voice cracking under the weight of my shock and heartbreak.
Hunter didn't move to console me; he didn't call out to stop me or offer any kind of explanation. Instead, he just stood there, hands in his pockets, eyes cold and distant. There was no remorse, no regret—only a look of irritation and indifference that cut deeper than any words could.
Did he not care about her? Did he not love her? Mom and Dad too? Does no one love me?
Tears blurred my vision as I spun around and fled, each step heavy with heartbreak and betrayal. The echoes of their lies, their apathy, haunted me as I disappeared down the hall, desperate to escape the suffocating weight of everything shattering around me.
In that moment, I felt utterly alone—abandoned by everyone I once trusted, swallowed by a storm of betrayal and pain that threatened to drown me completely.
I bolted out of the house as I flagged down a taxi and threw myself into the passenger's seat as soon as it pulled over. My voice was shaky when I said, "Summit High Avenue," my fingers clenched tightly to stop my trembling hands.
Tears threatened to spill over again, but I fought them back, determined to keep it together. I had to understand what was happening, had to make sense of everything. I sat there, quiet, on the way to my parents' house, trying to steady my racing mind.
But the ride felt unbearable. My thoughts jumble and spin, and I couldn't find any peace. There was this gnawing ache in my chest, a deep, relentless hole—like Hunter and Navira had dug it with their own hands. Their words kept echoing in my mind, Navira's smug grin, Hunter's cold, indifferent stare.
Suddenly, I gasped, struggling for air. My hands clenched my suit trousers, clutching them tightly as if holding onto something could ease the pain. Like maybe if I squeezed hard enough, it would fill that emptiness inside or somehow help me breathe again.
There had to be some explanation, right? Maybe my parents were in on it too—maybe it was just a prank, something to celebrate. Maybe my new promotion. Yes, that had to be it.
I coughed and sniffled, determined not to cry anymore. This had to be a cruel joke, a game gone too far. It had to be.
Suddenly, a sharp migraine threatened to split my head in two, and the thought of Hunter came rushing back. I imagined him holding me, kissing away the tears after I told him how the prank had shattered me—how it had torn me apart. I was sure of it.
I'd tell them all that the prank was unnecessary. I'd smile and say, "Oh, honey, you shouldn't have done that." Hunter would drive me to work, kiss me for good luck, and everything would be fine again. That's what I kept telling myself.
When the taxi pulled up in front of my parents' house, I shot one last glance at the place before I burst out of the car and stormed inside.
Normally, I would take a moment to appreciate my mother's white lilies, carefully sprawled all over the front porch—a symbol of peace and beauty. But today, they only sickened me. Their delicate petals seemed mocking, cruel reminders of normalcy I no longer felt.
I planted myself at the foot of the door and hammered my fist against it, voice trembling with fury and desperation. "Someone answer me before I tear this door down!" I screamed, voice echoing through the quiet neighborhood.
That finally seemed to do the trick.
Caleb, my older brother, appeared at the doorbell and opened it. Without hesitation, I pushed past him into the living room, my eyes darting around. I needed to see something, anything.
But there was nothing—no signs of life, no decorations, no cake, no balloons, no Suzette. No sign of the celebration or the warmth that was supposed to be here. No nothing.
I was wrong—there was no waiting party. The little part of my heart I had tried to hold together shattered into a million pieces. My eyelids stung harshly from all the hot tears I was fighting back. Anger quickly replaced the confusion, uncertainty, and heartbreak.
"Where's Mom and Dad?!" I demanded, pacing frantically around the large, empty room.
"What the fuck's wrong with you?!" Caleb snapped, stepping from behind me.
"No! Where are they?!" I yelled, my voice cracking with desperation. I didn't care about his questions anymore. All I wanted was answers.
I was going to get my answers today, no matter what it took—even if I had to tear this house apart.
"Nova, are you okay?" Caleb asked softly, trying to keep his voice steady, though I could see the annoyance flickering behind his eyes.
I spun around to face him, my eyes red and glazed with anger. With every passing second, I felt myself growing weaker, dizzy from the storm of emotions raging inside me. The adrenaline that surged through my veins was poisoned with spite, and at that moment, there was nothing I wouldn't do.
He saw all of this—the tears, the rage, the desperation—but still, he hesitated, not daring to come any closer.
"Am I okay?" I echoed bitterly, a hollow laugh escaping my throat. "I need someone in this house to tell me why my fiancé and my sister were holding hands on my front porch—with an invitation to their wedding! You better start talking, because I'm running late..." my voice cracked with hysteria, "...for work!" I yelled, pacing wildly, barely controlling the urge to throw the TV against the wall and watch it shatter into pieces—like my broken heart.
Just then, their parents appeared at the top of the stairs, coming down hurriedly. Caleb's shoulders relaxed slightly, grateful for their arrival, and I could see a flicker of relief cross his face.
With the look in her daughter's eyes, Heather knew what Novaria had come here for.
The elderly woman gently squeezed her husband's hands as Alfred turned to her.
"She knows," Heather muttered, loud enough for me to hear.
In that brief second, I snapped my neck in the direction of my mother's voice. The look in her eyes only confirmed one thing; it was true.
They had betrayed me, every single one of them.