Chapter 5

My mind went blank. All thought, all feeling, ceased.

I didn't want to imagine what was happening behind that closed door. I couldn't.

But a tiny, foolish part of me still held onto a sliver of hope. Maybe he was just helping her. Maybe she was really sick.

I forced my feet to move, one in front of the other, until I was standing right outside their door.

And then I heard it.

A soft moan. Her voice, followed by his, a low, guttural sound.

The last flicker of hope died, leaving behind an emptiness so vast it threatened to swallow me whole.

I didn't bang on the door. I didn't scream or cry. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me completely broken.

I turned and walked away, my hand pressed to my mouth to hold back the sobs. I stumbled out of the hotel and into the cold night air, a ghost in a beautiful gown.

I spent the entire night on the sofa, staring at the window as the sky slowly lightened from black to gray. My mind was a relentless torture chamber, replaying the sounds from that room, imagining every possible detail.

The pain was a living thing inside me, a constant, crushing weight.

He came home the next morning, his clothes rumpled, a faint scent of Kalea's perfume clinging to him.

"Did you sleep with her?" I asked, my voice devoid of emotion.

He had the decency to look uncomfortable. "She wasn't feeling well. She was drugged. I was just... helping her."

The excuse was so pathetic, so insulting, it was almost funny.

"Helping her?" My voice rose, cracking with hysteria. "Drake, do you even remember that you have a fiancée?"

"Of course I do," he snapped, his patience wearing thin. "Stop being dramatic, Elyse. The wedding is next month. Nothing has changed."

He turned and walked away, heading for the shower, unwilling to face me.

I sank to the floor, a hollow laugh escaping my lips. The tears finally came, hot and bitter. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have ever held onto hope for a man like him?

I was a walking corpse for the rest of the day, moving through the motions, my mind numb. I eventually fell into a fitful, dreamless sleep on the sofa.

I was jolted awake by a rough hand grabbing my arm. Drake was dragging me off the sofa, his face contorted with rage.

"Get in the car," he snarled.

"What's going on?" I cried, struggling against his grip.

He didn't answer. He shoved me into his car and sped off, driving so fast the tires squealed. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

"You threatened her, didn't you?" he finally spat, his voice a low growl. "You went to Kalea and told her to stay away from me."

"What? No! I didn't do anything!"

"Don't lie to me!" he roared. "She's on the roof of the hospital, threatening to jump! She said you told her if she didn't leave, you'd ruin her career! If anything happens to her, Elyse, I swear to God, I will make you pay."

I stared at him, bewildered. This was insane. It was another one of her games.

"It wasn't me, Drake," I said, my voice cold and firm.

We arrived at the hospital and raced to the roof. Kalea was there, standing precariously close to the edge, tears streaming down her face.

"Don't come any closer!" she shrieked when she saw us. "Elyse, I'm sorry! I'll leave! Please, just don't hurt me! I'll go away and never see Drake again!"

"Kalea, stop!" Drake yelled, his voice filled with panic. He rushed toward her, pulling her back from the edge.

He released my arm to grab her. The sudden movement sent me stumbling backward.

My heel caught on the edge of the roof's ledge.

I saw his face for a split second. He was holding Kalea, his eyes filled with relief and concern for her. He didn't even see me fall.

There was a moment of weightlessness.

Then, a gut-wrenching impact as my body hit the scaffolding one story below.

The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was Drake cradling Kalea in his arms, completely oblivious to the fact that I was dying.