Ninety-Nine Letters, A Thousand Lies

I found ninety-nine love

them wer

stole my award-winning design years

l-deep connection, a passi

irport. She saw him there, with Kenned

cheating. This

nnedy fraudulently claim the inheritance of the powerf

izenship, and secretly married her in France,

drugged, imprisoned, and nearly drowne

ed me, a mere footnote

e one fata

I was the rea

back to claim eve

pte

Burri

ters weren't tucked away

re righ

Cooper' s side o

ur weddi

r third a

ry, suddenly felt like a freezer door had

ealed with a wax stamp. A careful, almost

up the to

per' s early, more romantic notes to me, now felt alien. A la

rest Ken

nn

t had haunted me for years. A ghost in the periphery of

design. My chance at that inter

had supposedly lo

in my haste. The scent of old paper and something fai

stakingly crafted, po

" her "vision that reshaped his world," a

o the functional texts he

dry cl

words with a passion I' d only ever dreamed of. A d

r future plans. Plans that sounded eerily like th

these fervent declarations with the husband who kisse

rt sha

ld, hollow ache in my chest. Each word was a t

eemed sinister. A testament t

g pristine in the closet, suddenly felt like a cruel joke. Our anniversary dinner, planned

a love so profound. So deeply etched into his be

husband. The man I lo

er as his mus

," one line read. "Every structure I build, e

ony was a pun

ons of others into tangible plans. And here I was. Translating t

a cruel, el

the surface of my despair.

bedside table. A jarring int

nna. My b

had no filter. But she was fiercely loyal. She wouldn't min

y a bright, energetic burst, sounded strained. "Listen,

ant uncertainty in her ton

't really talk right now," I m

a conspiratorial whisper. "He's hugging Kennedy. Like, a full-on, Hol

ened around the letter. It felt like the univ

ut a public display

ed. The single wo

ks absolutely smitten, Aubrey. Like he's found a long-lost treasure." Jonna's voice was sharp wi

h. The letters. The airport embrace.

A sudden urgency in my voice. "

. I'm a journalist, remember? This is a stor

ice, loud and clear. "Cooper Mcknight! W

into my throat

had ever heard it. "Jonna. I don't know what you thi

re pawing at, Kennedy! And on their anniversary, n

fragile. "Jonna, please. You're making a s

u're about to make out in the

. "You wouldn't want your... private life becoming front-page news, woul

ound of horror. He wouldn't. He couldn't.

't dare!" Jonna yelled.

, devoid of emotion. "Now, if you'll

ffle. "Aubrey... I'm so sorry. I... I

firm. Despite the tremor in my hands. "Go home. I'll

ith this! He's humiliating you!"

g back to the stack of letters.

The silence

of a tidal wave. Drowning me i

t loved me.He

ploy. He had married me to silence me. To prevent me from

education at a top European design school. A twisted

mirage. He was a shell. Animated

m-all of it was a performance. A grand dec

sensation. Stripping away every oun

red life, now felt like a stage set

sudden interest in interior design, now made sickening sense. He' d systematically replaced all our

n' t f

y. Her preferred

Piece by piece. Bef

his wasn't just about a stolen design or a broken heart. Thi

es – a medical "precaution" before starting a famil

edy; he was building her a new

phone. It was an alert from m

n. Declined. Panic tightened its

m that, another notificat

mous new

ces US Citizenship for French M

? Kenne

eces clicked into place w

tly claim the identity of the long-lost hei

lsen

d about in hushed tones for their reclusive nature and immense influence. They were the very family I had been tr

I was an unwitting pawn i

attempting to steal my very identity. My potential fut

n to form. They hadn't just broken me; they

usually focused on the subtle nuances of architectura

twork. A distant relative of the Olsen family who handled th

nothing le

on. File for divorce. And contact t

had built their e

ld watch i

eyboard. A surge of defiant

the end of

s the b