The Truth Hidden In A Folder
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t marriage with my husband, Grant, and an un
hidden video on our shared laptop, tuck
tertwined. I heard my husband promise my best friend he would nev
saved my life. Their entire relationship, their fake animosity-it was
to rush to her side after a faked car acc
and with the sound of my hand cracking ac
etting a
pte
KLYN
mbled, a tremor starting deep inside and rattling its way out through my fingertips an
wed me the unthinkable. It was a video, hidden in a folder I wasn't supposed to find, a fo
or maybe somewhere else entirely. Chelsey, my best friend, was already there. She lo
ur time," Ch
t now it churned with bile. "Couldn't be too obvious, could I? You
. He always playe
sessive and hungry. "She' s so clueless. You really think
rusts you." He reached out, his hand tracing the lin
self to watch it again felt like a perverse form of self-torture. My eyes blurred
eep, undeniable kiss. It was a kiss that belonged to lovers, to people who shared a histor
husband. Things with my best friend. The visual slammed into me, raw and brutal. It was li
es buckled. I slumped against the cold tile of the bathroom floor, the laptop still glowing with their
ike a punishment for some unknown sin of my own? I
sey, years ago. We were so young, so full of hope. I w
sister," I' d beamed, linking our arm
rve of her lips. I' d attributed it t
my head on his chest. "Chelsey is the most important person i
nything for you, my love. I' ll charm her, don' t
en he first saw Chelsey. A momentary blankness, quickly replaced by his usual charming
, as they fixed on Grant. "I' ve heard a lot about you," she' d sneered, her voice laced with an edge I' d never heard her u
burning. "Chelsey!" I'
ontents-a bright red cocktail-all over Grant' s pristine white shirt. "Oops. My hand slipped," she' d said, a fake
ng. "Brooklyn, are you actually serious about him? He'
verything I ever wanted. I' d always valued Chelsey' s fierce p
d earnest after their embrace. "Promise me," she whispered, her voice husky with emotion. "Promise
ith an intensity I' d foolishly believed was reserv
le, streamed down my face, blurring the vile
ick of the
He wa
The room was dark, save for the faint glow from the hal
k? Are you okay?" Grant' s voice, familia
h tears. He knelt beside me, his brow furrowed with what looked like
nst my skin. He stroked my hair, his voice soft and soothing. "Tell me, princes
a small child. "Don' t cry, my love. I' m here. I'
irony. He promised to avenge me, oblivious to the fact
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