Chapter 4

Clara’s POV

I shut my eyes and breathed in deeply, promising myself not to break again.

“I will do what you asked,” I whispered, the words tasting like salt and steel on my tongue. “Just because I still care for you.”

I did not look at him. I couldn’t. Not yet. My heart still felt like it had been scooped out and exposed to the world without warning. 

But I needed clarity. I needed answers, real ones. I needed to make sense of this chaos before it swallowed me whole.

“So,” I finally said, my voice quieter than I intended, “tell me about you and Jonah. Tell me how all of this started.”

There was a long pause, and then Elliot sighed. It was the kind of sigh that sounded like years of pent-up truth finally beginning to unravel.

“Well… it started when I noticed I didn’t talk about girls the way other boys my age did. They would go on and on about crushes, and I would just… smile and nod. I never really felt anything.”

His voice was steady, but I could hear the tremor beneath it. A boy caught between who he was expected to be and who he actually was.

“I was unsure of my feelings,” he continued, “and with Dad being… well, Dad, so imposing, so obsessed with appearances, he pushed me to date. To blend in. So I did. I dated girls. A lot of girls. But I always just… saw them as my little sisters.”

That hit harder than I wanted to admit.

He glanced at me, gauging my reaction, but I only nodded for him to continue.

“It started making sense the summer I was sent to leadership camp. I was fourteen,” he said, eyes softening at the memory. “That’s when I met David.”

I tilted my head, watching his face transform as he talked. Like he was lifting a photo album buried deep inside him.

“Spending time with him was the best part of every day. Everyone thought we were just tight friends, maybe even like brothers. But we knew. We knew it was more than that.”

A soft, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“On the last day of camp, we slipped into the woods and just talked for hours. About life, dreams… fears. As the sun began to dip, he kissed me and told me he loved me.”

Elliot’s voice caught.

“And in that moment, I said it back. It felt… real. Like I had been holding my breath for years and was finally breathing.”

I didn’t realize I had tears in my eyes until one slipped down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly.

“But that was the last time I saw him,” he added quietly, like that memory was a wound that never healed.

I swallowed. “And Jonah?”

His name fell from my lips like a prayer. I needed to understand.

Elliot’s whole demeanor softened.

“Jonah is… different,” he said with a fondness that pierced me in the chest. “He’s kind, compassionate, fiercely loyal. And he sees me. Really sees me. Not the Sinclair name. Not the heir. Just… Elliot.”

I looked at him closely, at the way he breathed Jonah’s name like it gave him strength.

“We met at a charity gala,” he explained. “I was doing my usual act, smiling for the press, pretending to be the perfect son. He was volunteering. Clumsy as hell. Bumped into me and spilled an entire tray of canapés on my suit.”

I let out a small laugh through my pain.

“Everyone gasped, of course. But Jonah? He just laughed. Not in a rude way, just… freely. Like the world wasn’t watching.”

He shook his head in wonder.

“And for the first time, I stopped performing. We talked that night. For hours. About everything and nothing. He made it easy to just be. It wasn’t love at first sight… more like a quiet miracle unfolding day by day.”

My chest tightened. This wasn’t the confession I expected. It was… raw. Beautiful. Unfair.

“I was scared,” he admitted. “Still am. Of my dad. Of the media. Of losing everything. But Jonah… he never pushed. He just waited. And when I was finally ready, he was there.”

Elliot looked up at me, eyes filled with something I hadn’t seen before, honesty.

“It’s messy. Complicated. But it’s the most real thing in my life.”

A beat of silence passed before I found my voice.

“I don’t know what hurts more,” I whispered. “The fact that you lied to me… or the fact that you never felt for me what I felt for you.”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said quickly. “You’re amazing, Clara. You deserved so much more than the lie I gave you.”

My throat tightened. “I loved you, Elliot. I was ready to spend forever with you.”

He winced. “I know.”

I inhaled slowly, grounding myself.

“Well… thank you for telling me the truth,” I said at last. “Jonah sounds like an incredible person.”

“He is.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice anymore.

“What are you going to do now?” I asked after a long moment.

He stood, rubbing his palms together as if trying to squeeze out certainty.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I can’t keep lying. Not to anyone. I have to figure out what comes next.”

He walked to the door, then paused and looked at me with a soft, sorrowful smile.

“Thank you, Clara. For listening. For not… hating me.”

Then he opened the door and stepped out, leaving me alone in the room. But my thoughts didn’t rest.

I stared at the door long after it closed, my chest hollow and my heart screaming in silence.

Elliot had his truth.

But what about mine?

The pain didn’t fade. It just changed shape, sharp, jagged. A thousand headlines echoed in my mind. The whispers. The pitying stares. The humiliation.

He got to walk away.

But I was the one left behind in the wreckage.

And I wasn’t sure how long I’d stay quiet.

Maybe the world needed to hear my side of the story.

Maybe the girl who got her heart shattered by a Sinclair wasn’t going to be the silent, sweet ex-fiancée anymore.

I stood up from the bed, walked over to my dresser, and picked up the envelope I had thrown into a drawer earlier that week.

It was still sealed to signify I had not opened it. 

But maybe not for long.

Maybe it was time someone else paid the price.