Chapter Five: What I Didn’t Want to See

I didn’t want to be right.

That was the part nobody talks about—the moment when your gut finally stops whispering and starts screaming, and all you can think is please let me be wrong.

I sat on my bed staring at my phone like it had personally betrayed me.

The picture was innocent if you didn’t know what to look for.

Aire standing in my dad’s doorway. Close enough that the space between them felt intentional. Her body angled toward him. His attention locked on her like the rest of the world had gone quiet.

I’d taken it without thinking. Just a quick snap while pretending to scroll. Something about the moment had felt… off.

Now I knew why.

I dropped my phone onto the bed and pressed my palms to my eyes.

“No,” I whispered. “No way.”

My dad wouldn’t do that.

Aire wouldn’t do that.

Except… the signs had been there. I just didn’t want to connect them.

The distance. The secrets. The way Aire started dodging my questions instead of teasing me like she always did. The way my dad went quiet whenever her name came up—like he was afraid of what might slip out if he talked too much.

I felt stupid.

Not because of what they were doing—but because they didn’t tell me.

Anger burned hot and fast in my chest.

Not the explosive kind.

The hurt kind.

---

I found Aire later that night.

She was in the kitchen at her place, standing by the counter scrolling on her phone, looking tired in a way sleep wouldn’t fix. When she saw me, her shoulders stiffened.

That alone told me everything.

“You got a minute?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. What’s up?”

I leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. “How long?”

Her face drained of color.

“How long… what?” she asked carefully.

I exhaled through my nose. “Don’t do that. Not with me.”

Silence stretched.

Then she looked down.

That was it.

My chest tightened. “Wow.”

“Aire—”

“Don’t,” I said, holding up a hand. “Just—don’t.”

I needed a second to breathe through the wave of emotions crashing into me. Hurt. Anger. Confusion. And underneath it all… understanding I didn’t ask for but couldn’t deny.

“You could’ve told me,” I said quietly. “That’s what hurts.”

Her eyes filled immediately. “I wanted to.”

“When?” I snapped. “After I figured it out myself?”

She flinched. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

I laughed bitterly. “Congratulations. You hurt me anyway.”

Aire stepped closer. “Nia, please—”

“Is it my dad?” I asked.

She stopped.

Didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

I closed my eyes and nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah. That tracks.”

“Aire—”

“Let me talk,” I said, voice shaking despite my effort to keep it steady. “Because if I don’t, I’m gonna say something I can’t take back.”

She nodded again, tears slipping free now.

I swallowed hard. “I’m mad. I’m allowed to be mad.”

“You are,” she whispered.

“I trusted you,” I continued. “You’re my best friend. You know everything about me. And you kept this from me.”

“I was scared,” she said. “Of losing you.”

That did it.

I turned away, blinking hard. “You almost did.”

The words hung heavy between us.

When I turned back, Aire looked wrecked. Not defensive. Not guilty.

Just… torn.

That mattered.

“So,” I said finally. “How bad is it?”

She hesitated. “Bad.”

I nodded. “Figures.”

Another pause.

“I’m not sleeping with him,” she said quickly. “Nothing like that. It’s just—feelings.”

That should’ve made it better.

It didn’t.

“Feelings are worse,” I muttered.

She let out a shaky breath. “I know.”

I studied her face—the girl who’d been my safe place since we were teenagers. The one who knew when I was lying before I did. The one who had never, not once, tried to hurt me on purpose.

And that’s when the anger softened into something heavier.

Reality.

I sighed and sank onto the stool. “I can’t believe I’m saying this.”

She wiped her cheeks. “Saying what?”

“I get it.”

Her head snapped up. “You—what?”

“I don’t like it,” I clarified quickly. “I don’t approve. I don’t want to think about it.”

“But I get it.”

She stared at me like I’d lost my mind.

“My dad is… who he is,” I continued slowly. “And you’re—you. I’ve seen the way men look at you. I’ve seen the way you look at things you want but know you shouldn’t touch.”

Aire’s voice cracked. “Nia…”

“I’m mad you didn’t tell me,” I said firmly. “I’m mad you took that choice away from me.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“I believe you,” I said.

The room went quiet.

“So what happens now?” she asked.

I laughed softly. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

I stood and faced her fully. “You don’t sneak. You don’t lie to me anymore.”

“I won’t.”

“And you don’t blow up my family,” I added. “Because if this turns into something reckless, I won’t protect either of you.”

Her face went serious. “I would never do that to you.”

“I know,” I said. “That’s why I’m still standing here.”

She pulled me into a hug, tight and shaking.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into my shoulder.

“I know,” I said again, holding her just as tight. “Just don’t make me regret being understanding.”

She nodded against me. “I won’t.”

But even as I said I was okay with it… a knot of fear settled deep in my chest.

Because some lines don’t just blur.

They burn.

And once crossed, they don’t uncross quietly.