Some weeks had passed.
The office had returned to its usual rhythm, meetings, memos, the low hum of printers, and chatter in the hallway.
I had managed to regain a sense of normalcy, even if my heart still carried the bruises of betrayal.
I had busied myself with tasks, buried emotions beneath deadlines and professionalism.
But then… he showed up again.
My assistant knocked softly before entering. "Ma'am… Mr. Joe is here. He asked to see you."
I froze. My heart skipped a beat before steadying again. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my shoulders.
"Alright," I said calmly. "Let him in."
The door opened, and Joe walked in, cautious, uncertain.
His usual confidence had been replaced with a quiet heaviness. We exchanged greetings, civil but stiff.
I tried to maintain my composure, every inch of me screaming to stay strong.
He stood before me, hands in his pockets, eyes searching mine.
"I tried to reach you, Ella," he began. "But you blocked me.
I didn't come around again because… I wanted to give you space."
"Then why are you here?" I asked coolly.
He exhaled slowly. "Because you deserve the truth. The whole truth."
He shifted his stance, clearly uncomfortable, and then continued, "The woman you heard from… the one who messaged you.
It wasn't what you thought.
It started" as a contract marriage, strictly business. Our families… company ties… it was never supposed to be more than an arrangement."
I didn't say a word. I just listened.
"But along the line, we crossed boundaries," he admitted. "We made out. It was… complicated.
She fell in love with me. And I," he paused, voice cracking slightly, "I felt something too.
Maybe it was guilt, maybe" confusion, I don't know.
But once the contract ended, she didn't want to let go. She's still holding on."
My arms folded. "And where does that leave me, Joe?"
He looked at me with those pleading eyes.
"I came to you with all honesty now because I don't want lies between us. I never wanted to hurt you.
I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier… I was scared. I didn't handle things right."
"No," I said firmly. "You didn't. You should've told me the truth from the beginning.
Instead, I had to hear it from a stranger who insulted me in the most humiliating way.
I won't tolerate that ever again."
He took a step forward, almost reaching for me, but stopped himself.
"Joe… I want to be alone for now," I said softly. "To think. I wish you'd understand me."
"I do understand," he replied, voice calm but resolute. "I understand that you chose yourself.
I prioritize my peace of mind and my dignity above everything."
His face faltered, the weight of my words settling in.
"I care about you," he murmured.
"And I care about me," I said.
Silence lingered between us for a few moments, thick, final, yet not bitter.
As he turned to leave, I didn't stop him.
I had cried enough. I had questioned enough. This time, I knew what I wanted.
Not a love steeped in secrets.
But a life centered on peace. And that… that was something no one could take from me again.
"A Day Just for Us"
The sunlight was kind that Saturday, soft and golden, like it knew we needed a break from the storm.
Sophie showed up at my door at 10 a.m. sharp, oversized sunglasses on, iced coffee in hand, and that mischievous grin that meant one thing:
"We're not staying indoors today."
I tried to protest, murmured something about catching up on work, not feeling up to it, but she waved me off like I was a fly buzzing in her sunshine.
"Nope," she said, sliding her arm through mine.
"Today, you're getting fresh air, fresh perspective, and maybe fresh gelato."
And with that, I was swept into a girls' day escape, just the two of us.
Stop One: The Boutique
We started with a tiny boutique tucked between a florist and a record store, Sophie's favorite place for "emotionally therapeutic window shopping."
She pulled out the most ridiculous hat she could find, wide-brimmed, neon pink, and placed it squarely on my head.
"Oh yes," she declared dramatically, "this is exactly what power and heartbreak look like!"
I laughed, really laughed, for the first time in weeks.
Then we tried on dresses we'd never actually buy, complimented strangers, and posed like movie stars in the mirror aisle.
Stop Two: Brunch & Real Talk
Over pancakes and spicy mimosas, the conversation slowed. Sophie's teasing gave way to softness.
"So…" she said gently, fork swirling syrup, "how's your heart?"
I hesitated, tracing the rim of my glass. "Still tender. But not shattered."
She nodded, reaching over to squeeze my hand. "Good. Because you deserve so much better than doubt.
Then being someone's second guess."
Her words wrapped around me like a blanket. And for the first time, I didn't flinch at the truth.
Stop Three: Lakeside Walk
The afternoon ended with a quiet stroll by the lake. Ducks waddled, wind rippled the surface, and kids flew kites in the distance.
"You know," Sophie said, hands tucked in her pockets, "I think life's about chapters."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. And I think you just turned a page."
I looked out at the water, and the sky stretched wide and open above us.
"I think so, too."
We sat on a bench, side by side, in silence. Not the heavy kind. The healing kind.
Final Moment: A Pinky Promise
Before we left, Sophie looped her pinky with mine. "Promise me you'll keep choosing yourself no matter who comes back knocking."
I smiled. "I promise."
"So, He Came Back…"
As we strolled by the lake, the laughter from earlier had faded into a more thoughtful quiet. The water shimmered like it was listening in.
I kicked a pebble and sighed. "Sophie… there's something I didn't tell you."
She glanced at me sideways, her curiosity already on high alert. "Don't tell me Joe showed up again."
I nodded, biting my lip. "He came to my office. A few days ago."
She stopped walking. "And?? You better not say he brought roses and forgiveness."
I gave a small, dry laugh. "No. Just explanations. According to him, it was a contract marriage.
Business-related. Family and company interests. They pretended… but then they crossed boundaries.
Got intimate. She fell in love. Now she refuses to let him go."
Sophie blinked. Once. Twice. Then her mouth dropped open.
"Are you kidding me?! So, let me get this straight: he faked a marriage, got too cozy, and now she's in love and sending you threatening messages?
Oh my God, we didn't investigate deep enough. That woman insulted you like a street thief!"
I nodded slowly. "I felt like a fool.
And he had the nerve to say I should understand."
Sophie threw her hands in the air. "Understand? Understand what, exactly?
That he blurred the lines of a fake marriage and let someone else believe they had a future?
That he let you walk into crossfire without a shield?"
Her voice trembled with indignation on my behalf.
"I'm honestly furious," she continued. "Not just at her. At him, too.
Because he left you exposed to her madness and then showed up days later with this twisted fairytale."
I was quiet for a while, watching a pair of ducks ripple through the lake.
Then I said softly, "The worst part? I almost wanted to believe him."
Sophie's eyes softened, her voice gentler now. "That's not weakness, Ella. That's love. Or the residue of it."
She stepped closer and wrapped her arm through mine.
"But let me say this loud for the woman in healing: your peace and dignity come first.
You can love someone, even miss them, and still not go back.
Especially if that love comes with betrayal and confusion."
I exhaled deeply. "Thank you."
"Always," she said. "And if that woman ever texts again, just know I've got legal fire, digital proof, and pepper spray."
That made me laugh.
We kept walking, hearts lighter, steps steadier.