To force my hand, to make me call off our engagement, my fiancé drove my father's company into the ground, burying it under millions in debt. The shock triggered a heart attack, and my father was rushed into the ICU. As I was on my knees, begging my fiancé for the money to cover the surgery, my childhood friend, Jack Blackwood, suddenly returned from abroad. He arranged for the best doctors for my father and stayed by my side, holding vigil with me day and night. But a week later, my father suffered another, more severe heart attack. To give him peace in his final moments, Jack knelt by the hospital bed and swore he would marry me, that he would take care of me for the rest of his life. After the funeral, my heart a hollowed-out cavern, I broke off the engagement. Instead, I married Jack. Five years later, however, I overheard a conversation between him and my ex-fiancé. “You played a masterstroke, I’ll give you that. You got that clingy leech Renee to let go of me, and she even thanked you for it. Tell me, if she ever found out you were the one who really killed her father, you think she’d want to gut you?” … My hand froze on the private room's door handle. Inside, my ex-fiancé's mocking voice continued, dripping with amusement. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that? Renee grew up with you, looked up to you like an older brother. I bet she’d never in a million years guess that the man who bankrupted her father’s company was you.” “If it wasn’t for Ava, I never would’ve taken the fall for you all these years. I may have hated the girl, but I wouldn’t go so far as to stress a man into his grave.” A glass slammed onto the table, and Jack’s voice, thick with drink and fury, cut through the air. “What I owe Renee, I’ll spend a lifetime repaying. I only helped you back then because I wanted Ava to be happy. If you ever betray her, if you make her shed a single tear, I will end you.” The other man just clicked his tongue in mock admiration. “So devoted. A real tragic hero. Too bad she met me first. You just focus on protecting your precious Renee. After all, you killed her father. Better watch your back for when his ghost comes calling in the middle of the night.” CRASH! A glass shattered against the door, fragments exploding everywhere. Footsteps rushed towards the door. I took a sharp breath and fled, my feet carrying me down to the bar on the ground floor. I grabbed a drink and downed it in one go. The burn of the alcohol, something I never touched, brought tears streaming from my eyes. His words echoed in my mind, a torturous loop. It wasn't my fiancé who had ruined my father. It was Jack—the same man who had paid for his surgery. And that second heart attack, the one that took my father a week later… it must have been because of something Jack said. No wonder Dad had stared so intently at Jack as he took his last breath. I had been so naive, thinking it was a look of gratitude, of entrusting me to him. The man who had shared my bed for five years, the husband who’d held me in the palm of his hand like I was something precious… was the monster who had indirectly killed my father. And our marriage, this five-year performance of love, was nothing but a long, drawn-out act of penance for his guilt. The absurdity of it all was a bitter pill to swallow. Grief and rage churned inside me like a storm. Just as my gaze fell on another glass, a pair of arms wrapped around me from behind. Jack buried his face in the crook of my neck, his voice, soft with alcohol, a tender whisper. “Renee, where did you go? I missed you… Let’s go home. I love you, Renee… I love you so, so much…” For years, this was his ritual. Every time he drank, he would murmur these words of love. His friends always said it was the truth coming out, that he was utterly devoted to me. Now, it was all a grotesque joke. I calmly pushed him away and helped him into the car. Jack’s head came to rest on my lap, his brow smoothed in sleep, his breathing even. “Ava… Ava… Why wasn’t it me? Why…” This time, I heard it clearly. The name that haunted his dreams. Ava. Ava Sterling. The woman who had stolen my fiancé. Jack’s one true love, the one that got away. He had never forgotten her. He had married me, played the part of a doting husband, all while his heart belonged to another. I had underestimated the depths of his love for her. With a thud, his phone slipped from his pocket. I bent to pick it up, the screen lighting up with a new message. “Jack, thank you for covering for me with the drinks tonight. I can’t accept the necklace, it’s far too much.” A second later, I saw Ava's new Instagram story: “Love is priceless.” The picture was of a breathtakingly brilliant necklace, the very one reported in the news as being sold to a mysterious billionaire for a hundred million dollars—a one-of-a-kind piece. She posted it for me. I knew it. Just this week, Jack had been so busy he’d skipped meals, landing himself in the emergency room with stomach pains. The moment he was discharged, he flew to England. At the time, I was both furious and worried, thinking he was killing himself for his work. Now I knew the truth. He went to an auction. He went, even while doubled over in pain, to buy the most precious necklace in the world and lay it at the feet of his goddess. Some impulse I couldn't control made me type in the screen lock password. The last digit went in. The phone unlocked. It was Ava’s birthday. Jack had never let me touch his phone, always saying they needed to respect each other’s personal space. As the screen came to life, Ava’s radiant smile filled my vision. No wonder his expression always softened whenever he unlocked his phone. I opened his photo gallery. It was a sea of neatly organized albums. [Ava, Age 10] [Ava, Age 11]… [Ava, Age 25] Each album was a chronicle of her smiles through the years. Among the thousands of photos, not a single one was of me. Not even of himself. Only Ava. Just like his heart. From the beginning, it had only ever been Ava. What dark secrets did Jack's diary hold? And how would Renee cope with the full, devastating truth of his betrayal? Continue reading to find out. I opened the notes app. It was his diary. [Date, Sunny. Ava scratched her leg on a branch today. It’s my fault. I never should have planted those rose bushes in the yard.] [Date, Sunny. Ava got married today. As long as she’s happy, anything I do is worth it. My only purpose in life is to see her smile.] [Date, Rainy. I got married. When I saw Ava in the crowd, all I could wish for was that she was the one standing beside me.] The car pulled into our driveway. I looked up at the barren yard, and a chill seeped into my bones. There used to be two magnificent peach trees in that yard. Jack had transplanted them from my family’s old estate, a gift from my father who had planted them for me on my tenth birthday. Whenever I looked at them, I felt like my father was still with me, that he had never left. Then one day, the trees, once heavy with fruit, simply withered. Their roots had mysteriously rotted away. Jack had held me for three days and nights as I cried, comforting me. Now I knew. It was him. He had also destroyed the last living memory my father had left me. A message from his assistant popped up on the screen. [Mr. Blackwood, per your instructions, the final draft of your will is complete. All assets are to be left to Ms. Ava Sterling.] [It just needs your signature to be executed.] Through a blur of tears, I saw him. The man at the funeral, holding me, his voice thick with emotion as he made his promise. “Renee, I will give you a home. Everything I have will be yours.” After putting Jack to bed, I didn't bother with my usual routine of taking off his shoes and caring for him. I turned and went straight to the guest room. I closed my eyes, but all I could see were flashes of his "love" for me over the past five years. The next morning, sunlight streamed in, and I opened my eyes to find Jack gazing at me, his expression tender. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “Renee, were you upset with me last night? I’m sorry, I had too much to drink at the event. I promise it won’t happen again.” His gentle demeanor was just as it had always been. I just hummed in response, pushed him away, and went into the bathroom to wash the lingering warmth of his kiss from my skin. The breakfast table was laden with food. In the past, this would have filled me with joy. But after reading his diary, I couldn't feel anything but disgust. Every single dish was one of Ava’s favorites. The sound of a key in the front door lock turned, and Ava walked in, dressed in a pristine white dress. She moved through our home as if she owned it, taking a seat at the table. She offered me a faint smile. “Sorry to intrude, Renee. Jack and I have a photoshoot this morning, so he invited me over for breakfast.” I said nothing, my eyes fixed on the key fob in her hand—an exact replica of my own. Jack, ever perceptive, noticed my mood and leaned in to whisper an explanation. “Ava’s our best friend, Renee. It’s normal for her to have a key to our place…” He didn't finish. His voice shifted, and he shot up from his seat, snatching the glass of soy milk from Ava’s hand. “Ava, you can’t have soy milk! How can you still forget after all these years?” Ava pursed her lips into a coy smile. “That’s right. I’m so lucky to have you around to remember for me.” They stared at each other, lost in a look that spoke of years of shared history, like two lovers caught in a private moment. I had no interest in watching their display. As I was about to leave, Ava’s voice stopped me. “Renee, I remember you studied photography. Could you shoot for me today? I don’t really trust the new photographer.” I hadn’t touched a camera since my father died. The moment I held one, all I could see was him, the man who taught me everything about photography, his face pale and defeated in his final moments. I couldn’t bring myself to press the shutter button again. Jack knew this. He had locked all my cameras away, telling me not to force it, that he would be there for me until I was ready. But now, before I could even answer, he was pushing me towards the back seat of the car. “Renee, you know Ava gets carsick. You’ll have to sit in the back.” But he had forgotten that my motion sickness was far worse. Having barely touched my breakfast, my stomach churned violently the entire ride. When we arrived, Jack carefully fussed over Ava’s dress, bending down to help her into the studio. I leaned against the car, gasping for fresh air. “Renee, the shoot is about to start,” Jack said, his voice firm as he grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. “Stop being difficult and do a good job. This is important for Ava and for Blackwood Enterprises.” I stumbled, nearly falling to the floor. Holding a camera after five years felt both foreign and terrifying. My hands trembled. I fought back the wave of grief and forced myself to press the shutter, again and again. During a break, when it was just Ava and me in the studio, she flicked through the photos on the camera, a smirk playing on her lips. “You’re just as useless as your father was, Renee. Can’t do anything right.” Her words twisted in my gut. “Like father, like daughter, I suppose.” My nails dug into my palms, my body trembling with a rage I could barely contain. SLAP! A sharp, stinging pain exploded across my cheek. Ava shook her hand, looking down at me with utter contempt. “You’re so shameless, Renee. After being dumped, you immediately latched onto Jack. What makes you think you’re worthy of him? Let me make one thing clear: whether it was your ex or Jack, they were always mine.” “You don’t deserve him.” My head was still turned from the force of the blow. Before I could process what happened, Ava grabbed my hand, swung it at her own face, and then collapsed gracefully to the floor. Clutching her cheek, her eyes filled with tears, she was the very picture of a damsel in distress—a complete transformation from the venomous woman of a moment ago. “Renee, I wasn't criticizing your work… I just wanted to ask if you could try a different angle… If you didn’t want to, you could have just said so…” The studio door opened. The water glass in Jack’s hand fell to the floor. He rushed past me, kneeling to anxiously check on Ava. “Jack, I’m fine, really. Please don’t blame Renee. It wasn’t her fault, I just lost my balance.” “Ava, you’re too kind,” Jack said, carefully helping her to her feet, his touch as gentle as if she were made of porcelain. “You don’t have to cover for her. I saw what happened with my own eyes!” He pulled her into his arms, his face a mask of fury as he turned to me. It was the first time in our five years of marriage that he had ever looked at me with such anger. “Renee, apologize to Ava! I’ve been too easy on you these past five years! I’ve spoiled you into a venomous shrew!” “You know how important her face is to her career!” He glared at me, his rage so blinding that he didn’t seem to see the red, swollen handprint on my own cheek. I lifted my chin, my gaze meeting his, my voice eerily calm. “The one who should be apologizing is Ava, not me. She brought up my father. And speaking of my father, Jack… is there nothing you feel you need to apologize for?” A flicker of shock crossed his eyes, gone in an instant. “If it weren't for me back then, Dad would have been gone even sooner. Renee, I promised him I would take care of you for the rest of my life, but that promise was conditional on you not hurting Ava.” A bitter, self-mocking laugh escaped my lips. I should have known better than to expect anything from him. The world suddenly went dark, and I felt myself falling backward into unconsciousness.
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