My True North After Their Deceit

edly wandered out. The nurse' s well-meaning words echoed in my ears

lness, now twisted into a grotesque lie. He hadn't been sick; Janessa had. And he hadn't been worried about his dog; it was their dog.

the last two years, didn't they?" The details, casually dropped, painted a horrifying picture of a life I knew nothi

oning and needed me to transfer money for his medical bills. He'd sounded so miserable, so weak. I' d sent the money without hesitation, my heart a

he reassured me of his love, now felt like a sickening illusion. He' d never been alone

phone buzzed. A message. From Eric. My heart lurc

d, "So sorry I didn't answer your calls last night. I had a bit too much to drink at the graduation pa

flight for next month. You deserve a break. We'll go to that little cottage you love upsta

ght. He was already planning our next fake getaway, just like he always d

ric just told me you fainted. Hope you're okay. He's so upset he couldn't get to you. He was so drunk last night, bl

ted to explain away his absence, to reinforce the illusion of his devotion. They were a team, a well-oiled machine

ped to my knees, clutching my stomach, tears finally breaking free in a torrent of agon

the words choked and raw. "H

murmur of voices, followed by a soft, playful bark

near a small, secluded po

c bliss. Eric held a small, fluffy white dog, the same breed he' d claime

ing on the gentle breeze. "You're getting so big.

eeded a loving home, like we gave him. And now

my gut. "I can't believe we almost had to give him away if

ur little family. But it was all for you, for our future. I know your mom wants you to marry Claire, and

ick with emotion. "Always you. No matter what I hav

, dehumanizing truth. His mother, pushing him to marry me for my money. And J

ice laced with a fake concern that made my skin crawl. "I know she's your

"Don't fret, my love. Everything will work out. I pr

ant. "It means everything, E

whose life they were systematically dismantling. My nails dug into my palms, drawing crescent-

ess anymore. They were tears of pure, unadulterated fury. The saccharine sweetness of the crushed candy in

th every beat. I would go back to New York. Not broken, not defeated, but with a new fire in my eyes. I had come full of