By the time Sienna got off the bus, the sky had already started to darken.
Her legs ached as she walked the familiar path toward her apartment, her shoulders slumped from a long day at work. Customers had been demanding, her manager had been in a bad mood, and she had smiled so much her cheeks hurt. All she wanted was to get home, eat something simple, and rest.
Maybe talk to him a little.
That thought made her sigh.
Things had not been easy lately. Ever since her boyfriend lost his job, everything had changed. She had been the one paying rent, buying groceries, covering electricity bills. She did not complain. She told herself that relationships were about support. That if the roles were reversed, she would want the same understanding.
She reached her apartment door and slipped her key into the lock.
It turned too easily.
Sienna frowned.
"That's strange," she murmured.
He should have been home, yes, but he always locked the door. He was paranoid about security. Slowly, she pushed it open.
Laughter floated out.
Her steps slowed.
It was not the sound of the television. It was not his usual loud gaming noise.
It was laughter.
A woman's laughter.
Her heart skipped painfully.
Her first instinct was confusion. Maybe the neighbor had come over? Maybe she was imagining things. But the sound was coming from inside her apartment. Her living room. Her space.
She stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
The air smelled different.
Sweet. Floral.
Perfume she did not own.
Her chest tightened.
Then she heard his voice.
Low. Soft. Familiar in a way that made her stomach twist.
"Relax," he said quietly. "She won't be back so soon."
Sienna froze.
Her heart began to pound so hard it felt like it might break through her ribs.
"She?" a woman replied, giggling.
Sienna did not realize she was walking until she was already moving down the hallway. Every step felt heavy, like her body was resisting the truth. Her mind screamed at her to stop, to turn back, to pretend she had not heard anything.
But her hands were shaking as she pushed the bedroom door open.
And there they were.
On her bed.
Her boyfriend.
And her colleague.
For a long moment, no one moved.
The girl's eyes widened in shock. "Oh my God."
Sienna stared at them, her brain struggling to catch up with what her eyes were seeing.
This was the same colleague who worked beside her. The one who laughed with her during lunch breaks. The one who knew her boyfriend had moved in because he was unemployed. The one who smiled at her every morning.
"What is this?" Sienna asked.
Her voice was quiet. Too quiet.
Her boyfriend jumped up, panic flashing across his face. "Sienna, wait. It's not what you think."
She laughed.
It came out sharp and hollow. "That's funny. Because it looks like you're sleeping with my colleague in my house."
The girl scrambled off the bed, grabbing her clothes. "Sienna, I swear, this is not how it started."
Sienna turned to her slowly. "You knew he was my boyfriend."
The girl hesitated.
Sienna nodded. "I thought so."
"Sienna, please," her boyfriend said, stepping toward her.
"Don't," she snapped. "Do not come close to me."
He stopped immediately.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said desperately. "I've just been stressed."
She folded her arms, her nails digging into her skin. "You're stressed."
"Yes," he said quickly. "I lost my job. I've been home all day. You're always working. You're always tired."
Her eyes burned.
"So your solution was to sleep with another woman? In the house I pay for?"
"It just happened," he said weakly.
She laughed again, louder this time. "Nothing just happens. You made a choice."
The girl finally spoke again. "Sienna, I didn't plan this. He said you two were having problems."
Sienna snapped her head toward her. "Problems?"
"Yes," the girl continued nervously. "He said you barely talked anymore. That you were distant."
Sienna looked back at him.
"That's what you told her?"
He looked away.
Her chest tightened painfully. "I was distant because I was exhausted. Because I was working extra hours to support you."
The girl stood there awkwardly, clutching her bag. "Maybe I should go."
"Yes," Sienna said immediately. "You should."
"But—"
"Now."
The girl did not argue. She rushed out of the room, her head lowered, avoiding Sienna's eyes as she passed.
The moment the door closed, Sienna turned back to him.
"You moved into my house because you had nowhere else to go," she said. "You promised me you were looking for work."
"I am," he insisted. "It's just hard."
"And while it's hard," she said, her voice shaking, "you bring another woman into our bed?"
He rubbed his face. "I didn't think you'd come home early."
Silence filled the room.
Sienna stared at him.
"That's what you're worried about?"
He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"I trusted you," she said quietly. "I defended you when people asked why you weren't working. I told everyone you were trying."
"I love you," he said quickly.
"Don't say that," she snapped. "Love doesn't look like this."
Tears blurred her vision, but she refused to let them fall.
"Get your things," she said.
He froze. "What?"
"You heard me. Pack your things."
"Sienna, please," he begged. "I don't have anywhere else to go."
She walked to the wardrobe and pulled out his clothes, throwing them onto the floor.
"That stopped being my problem the moment you betrayed me."
"I'll sleep on the couch," he said desperately. "I'll do anything."
She shook her head. "No. You don't get comfort from me anymore."
She grabbed his shoes and threw them toward the door.
"Sienna—"
"I said leave."
She dragged his bag into the hallway and shoved it into his hands.
"You can't do this," he said, his voice breaking. "You're heartless."
She laughed bitterly. "Heartless? I opened my home to you when you were unemployed. I fed you. I paid for everything."
She pointed toward the door. "Leave before I completely lose my temper."
He hesitated, tears forming in his eyes. "I love you."
She looked at him one last time. "No, you loved what I provided."
She slammed the door shut and locked it.
Her body gave up.
She slid down against the door, hugging her knees to her chest as sobs ripped out of her. Her entire body shook as the weight of everything crashed down on her.
After a long time, she reached for her phone.
She called her best friend.
The call barely rang.
"Sienna?" her bestie said. "What's wrong?"
"Please," Sienna whispered. "Come over. I can't do this anymore."
"I'm on my way," her best friend replied immediately.
Sienna dropped the phone and leaned her head back against the door.
She stared at the ceiling.
This time, she did not promise herself she would forgive.
This time, she promised herself she would survive.
---
Lydia pov
Lydia was already halfway down the street when her phone buzzed again.
She did not need to look at the screen to know it was Sienna.
The first call had been enough.
Sienna never begged.
So when Lydia heard that break in her voice earlier, that quiet, defeated "please," something in her chest had tightened instantly. She had grabbed her keys without even changing her shoes.
Now, as she reached the apartment building, she felt it again. That heavy feeling. The kind that told her something bad had happened. Something final.
She climbed the stairs quickly, two at a time, her heart pounding harder with each step.
And then she saw him.
He was sitting in the hallway, his back against the wall, bags scattered around him like he had been dumped there. Clothes were half spilling out. One shoe lay on its side like it had been thrown in anger.
Lydia stopped.
Of course.
She crossed her arms slowly, taking him in. The slumped shoulders. The red eyes. The fake misery he always wore when things stopped going his way.
When he looked up and saw her, his face lit up with desperate hope.
"Lydia," he said quickly, standing up. "Thank God. Please, you have to help me."
She did not respond.
"Please," he continued, stepping closer. "You know Sienna. You know she listens to you. I messed up, I know that, but I swear I'm sorry."
Lydia tilted her head slightly, studying him.
Sorry.
That word again.
He had said it every time he disappointed Sienna. Every time he made excuses for not working. Every time he borrowed money and never returned it.
"Can you talk to her for me?" he begged. "I don't have anywhere to go. I'll sleep outside if I have to. Just help me beg her."
Lydia felt nothing.
No sympathy. No pity.
Only anger.
She had never liked him. Not from the beginning. There had always been something off about him. The way he talked too much but did nothing. The way he drained Sienna's energy and called it love.
He had always given bad guy energy.
Lydia stepped around him.
"Lydia," he said urgently, grabbing her arm.
She stopped walking.
Slowly, she looked down at his hand.
Then back up at his face.
"Take your hand off me," she said calmly.
He pulled back immediately.
"She's emotional right now," he said quickly. "You can calm her down. Tell her it was a mistake. Tell her I'm trying."
Lydia leaned in slightly, her voice low.
"You cheated on her."
He swallowed. "It was one time."
Lydia laughed softly. "It's never one time."
She straightened and walked past him without another word.
She knocked once and opened the door.
The moment she stepped inside, the sound hit her.
Crying.
Not soft crying.
The kind that comes from deep inside, the kind that shakes the walls of your chest.
"Sienna," Lydia called.
She closed the door behind her and locked it, as if sealing the world out.
Sienna was on the floor near the door, knees pulled to her chest, face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook violently.
Lydia's heart broke.
She rushed over and dropped to her knees beside her. "Hey. Hey. I'm here."
Sienna did not look up.
"I can't do this anymore," Sienna sobbed. "I really can't."
Lydia wrapped her arms around her immediately, pulling her into her chest. She felt how small Sienna was trembling in her arms.
"You don't have to," Lydia whispered. "You don't have to do anything right now."
Sienna cried harder.
"He brought her here," she said between sobs. "Into my house. My bed."
Lydia closed her eyes, anger flaring hot in her chest.
"That bastard," she muttered.
"I fed him," Sienna continued, her voice breaking. "I paid for everything. I defended him to everyone. And he did this."
Lydia stroked her hair gently. "I know. I know you did."
Sienna pulled back slightly, her eyes red and swollen. "Why wasn't I enough?"
Lydia cupped her face immediately. "Don't you dare ask yourself that."
"But if I was—"
"No," Lydia interrupted firmly. "Stop right there."
She looked Sienna straight in the eyes. "This has nothing to do with you being enough. This has everything to do with him being trash."
Sienna let out a shaky breath.
"He said he was stressed," Sienna whispered. "That I was always working."
Lydia scoffed. "And whose fault is that? You were working to support him."
Sienna nodded weakly.
"I never liked him," Lydia said softly.
Sienna managed a sad smile. "I know."
"He drained you," Lydia continued. "Every time I came over, you looked more tired. Less like yourself."
"I thought love meant patience," Sienna said.
"It does," Lydia agreed. "But love does not mean sacrificing your dignity."
Sienna leaned into her again, crying quietly now. Exhausted tears.
They stayed like that for a long time.
Eventually, Sienna whispered, "He begged you, didn't he?"
Lydia sighed. "Yes."
"What did you say?"
"I said nothing," Lydia replied. "I walked past him."
Sienna let out a small laugh through her tears. "That sounds like you."
"He deserves silence, not forgiveness."
Sienna wiped her face slowly. "I feel empty."
"That's normal," Lydia said. "You've been carrying everything alone."
She helped Sienna up gently. "Come on. Let's get you off the floor."
They moved to the couch. Lydia grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Sienna's shoulders.
"You're not stupid for loving him," Lydia said. "You're brave."
Sienna stared at the wall. "I just feel stupid."
"You're not," Lydia repeated. "You were kind. He took advantage of that."
There was a knock at the door.
Sienna stiffened instantly.
Lydia stood up. "Stay here."
She walked to the door and opened it just enough to see him standing there again.
"Please," he said, his voice hoarse. "Just five minutes."
Lydia looked him dead in the eye.
"There is nothing you can say that will fix this," she said coldly. "Leave."
"She won't even talk to me," he pleaded.
"That's the point."
He hesitated. "You're really going to let me be homeless?"
Lydia did not blink. "You made yourself homeless."
She shut the door in his face and locked it.
When she turned back, Sienna was watching her.
"Thank you," Sienna whispered.
"Always," Lydia replied.
She sat beside her again and squeezed her hand. "This is not the end of your story. It's the end of a bad chapter."
Sienna closed her eyes.
For the first time that night, she breathed.