LOGINLena
“Lena, wait.” Daniel’s voice followed me into the hallway. I kept walking. The sound of my heels against the floor seemed impossibly loud. Each step felt disconnected from the rest of me, as though my body had decided where to go before my mind could catch up. I didn't know where I was going. I only knew I needed to get away from that bedroom. Away from the sheets. Away from Sophie's face. Away from Daniel's expression. Away from the version of my life that had existed ten minutes ago. My vision had blurred so badly that the walls looked like they were moving. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my eyes. It didn't help. The tears kept coming. I reached for the railing as I walked toward the stairs. My fingers were cold. My entire body felt cold. “Lena!” His footsteps came closer. I heard the hurried rhythm of his shoes behind me. I gripped the railing tighter. “Don't.” My voice came out barely above a whisper. He stopped for half a second. Then I heard him move again. “Lena, please.” I descended the first step. My heel slipped slightly. I caught myself against the railing. Daniel immediately reached toward me. I jerked away before he could touch me. “I'm fine.” “You almost fell.” “I said I'm fine.” My voice shook. I hated that it shook. I hated that he could still make me feel vulnerable. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs. For one second, I considered running. Just running until I couldn't hear his voice anymore. But something inside me refused. Maybe it was anger. Maybe it was the last fragile piece of dignity I had left. Maybe I simply couldn't bear the thought of running away while he stood behind me pretending this was something that could still be explained. I turned around. He looked afraid. Afraid of losing me. As though he hadn't already lost me. For three years, I'd wanted this man to be afraid of losing me. I'd wanted him to fight for me. I'd wanted him to look at me and understand that I was worth keeping. But not like this. Not after he'd already shattered everything. “You don't get to follow me,” I said quietly. Daniel stopped several feet away. “Lena, please. Let me explain.” “Explain what?” My voice cracked. “That you were sleeping with my best friend?” Daniel swallowed. “It's not what you think.” I stared at him. A bitter laugh escaped me. “I walked into your bedroom.” “I know.” “I saw her.” “I know.” “So tell me exactly what I am supposed to think.” Daniel opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes darted toward the bedroom and then back to me. I watched him struggle for words. And somehow, that was worse. Daniel had always been good with words. He knew exactly what to say when I was upset. Exactly how to make me laugh. Exactly how to convince me that everything would be okay. Now he couldn't even look me in the eye. Daniel looked away. That tiny movement hurt more than anything. Because there was no denial anymore. No attempt to convince me that I had misunderstood. He had been caught. And he knew it. Sophie appeared at the top of the stairs. She had changed into a robe. Her eyes were swollen with tears. She held the robe tightly around herself, one hand gripping the fabric at her chest. For a moment, I wondered how long she'd been crying. Had she cried because she felt guilty? Or because she was afraid of losing Daniel? I didn't know. I wasn't sure I wanted to know. “Lena…” “Don't call my name.” Sophie stopped. Her mouth trembled. “I swear I never wanted to hurt you.” I looked at her. “You never wanted to hurt me?” Sophie nodded through her tears. “I don't know.” “I don't know?” My voice rose. “You don't know why you slept with my boyfriend?” Sophie covered her mouth. “I'm sorry.” “Sorry?” I shook my head. “That’s all you have?” Sophie started crying. She lowered her face into her hands, her shoulders shaking. I watched her for several seconds. I remembered every time I'd defended her. Every time I'd told people, That's my best friend. Every secret I'd shared. Every late-night conversation. Every time Sophie had hugged me and told me I deserved a man who loved me completely. Apparently, all those words had meant nothing. Or maybe they had meant something to her once. Maybe that's what hurt most. The possibility that she had loved me and betrayed me anyway. I looked at Daniel. “How long?” He said nothing. His jaw tightened. My stomach twisted. “How long, Daniel?” “A few months.” The words barely registered. I blinked. “A few months?” Daniel nodded. I stared at him. My hands slowly curled into fists at my sides. Months. While I'd been planning birthdays. While I'd been worrying about why he was distant. While I'd been lying awake wondering whether I'd done something wrong. Months. He'd been coming home to me after being with Sophie. He'd kissed me. Held me. Said goodnight. And then gone back to the woman I trusted most. I remembered every night I'd waited for his key in the lock. Every time I'd smiled when he'd finally walked through the door. Every time I'd asked him how his day had been. Every time he'd said he was tired. My fingers tightened around the gift bag. The paper crinkled beneath my grip. I looked down at it. For a moment, I almost laughed. I'd been carrying his gift like an idiot. Like a woman who still believed she was walking into a celebration. “Does she know?” Daniel frowned. “Know what?” “About us.” Sophie looked down. I laughed bitterly. “Of course she knew.” I looked directly at Sophie. “You knew everything.” Sophie wiped her cheeks. “I knew you two were having problems.” “You knew everything.” I stepped closer. Sophie instinctively stepped backward. “You knew I was worried about him. You knew I thought he was pulling away. You knew I blamed myself.” “I didn't mean for this to happen.” “Then what did you mean to happen?” Sophie had no answer. I nodded slowly. “Exactly.” The silence that followed seemed to stretch forever. I could hear the faint hum of the air conditioner. I could hear Sophie's uneven breathing. I could hear my own heartbeat pounding against my ribs. I could see Sophie's tears falling onto the robe. I could see Daniel watching me. And I hated that some part of me was still searching his face for the man I had loved. The man from our first date. The man who had once held my hand across a restaurant table because he'd been too nervous to say what he was thinking. The man who had kissed me in the rain. The man who had promised me forever. I couldn't find him. Only a stranger remained. Daniel stepped forward. “Lena, enough.” I turned toward him. “Enough?” “You're making this worse.” For a moment, I couldn't believe what I'd heard. My eyebrows lifted. “I'm making this worse?” “That's not what I meant.” “Then what did you mean?” Daniel rubbed his forehead. “I didn't plan for any of this.” “Neither did I.” The words came out so quietly that Daniel stopped. I looked at him. “I didn't plan to walk into your apartment tonight and discover that the two people I trusted most had been lying to me.” Silence. Daniel lowered his eyes. I looked down at the gift bag. Then slowly held it out. Daniel frowned. “What is that?” “I bought you something.” “Lena—” “Open it.” He didn't move. “Open it.” Daniel took the bag. His hands trembled slightly as he pulled out the box. He opened it. The silver watch caught the light. His expression changed. For a moment, neither of us spoke. I watched him stare at it. “I saw you looking at it.” Daniel looked up. “I remembered.” His jaw tightened. “I thought you'd like it.” “Lena…” “Do you know what the stupidest part is?” I smiled, but there were tears in my eyes. “I was going to give it to you tonight and tell you that I was proud of us.” Daniel closed his eyes. His fingers tightened around the box. I continued. “I thought three years meant something.” “It does.” “No.” I shook my head. “It meant something to me.” Daniel stepped closer. “Lena, I loved you.” The past tense struck me immediately. Loved. Not love. I swallowed. “Then why?” Daniel looked at me. And for several seconds, he said nothing. His gaze dropped. Then his eyes moved over me. From my face to my body. I noticed. And suddenly, I knew. I just didn't want to believe it. “Why, Daniel?” He sighed. “Things haven't been the same.” “What things?” “Us.” My brow furrowed. “What does that mean?” “You've changed.” I stared at him. “People change.” “You know what I mean.” “No. I don't.” Daniel looked uncomfortable. His shoulders stiffened. He glanced toward the floor before finally looking back at me. “You've gained weight, Lena.” The hallway went silent. I felt as though someone had slapped me. My mouth opened slightly. Nothing came out. Daniel continued, almost as though saying it quickly would make it less cruel. “You're not the same woman I started dating.” My lips parted. “Because I'm bigger?” “I didn't say that.” “You just did.” “I said you've changed.” “Because I'm bigger.” Daniel sighed. “Yes.” One word. That was all it took. I felt something inside me collapse. My eyes burned. I looked away because I couldn't bear to let him see exactly how deeply his words had landed. I'd spent years trying not to care about the number on a scale. Daniel knew that. He knew every insecurity I'd ever had. Every time I'd stood in front of a mirror and complained about my stomach. Every dress I'd refused to wear. Every photograph I'd deleted. He knew. And he had chosen the deepest wound he could find. I looked down at myself. At the emerald-green dress I'd spent so long choosing. The dress I'd smoothed over my body three times. The dress I'd stood in front of the mirror wearing while telling myself I looked beautiful. Suddenly, I wanted to tear it off. I wanted to disappear from it. I wanted to disappear from myself. My hands moved instinctively over the fabric. I pressed my palms against my stomach. Then immediately dropped them. I didn't want to touch myself. Not while his words were still echoing inside my head. But beneath all of that shame was something else. Anger. Because I'd been trying. I'd been trying so hard. “You stopped trying,” he said. I stared at him. “Trying?” “With your appearance. With yourself.” “So you cheated on me because I gained weight?” “That's not what I'm saying.” “It sounds exactly like what you're saying.” Daniel ran a hand through his hair. “I tried, Lena.” I laughed softly. “Tried what?” “To make things work.” “By sleeping with Sophie?” He flinched. “I was unhappy.” “And she made you happy?” Daniel looked at Sophie. That tiny glance destroyed something in me. “Yes.” Sophie lowered her eyes. I nodded slowly. “I see.” Daniel stepped toward me. “Lena, I didn't stop caring about you.” “Then why didn't you leave?” He didn't answer. “Why didn't you leave me before you touched her?” Silence. Daniel looked down at the watch still sitting in his hand. “Why?” Still nothing. I wiped the tears from my face. “Three years, Daniel.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Three years.” I remembered our first date. A tiny restaurant where Daniel had been so nervous he'd knocked over his water. I remembered our first Christmas together. Our first vacation. The apartment we had once dreamed of sharing. The future I'd imagined. Children. A home. Growing old together. All of it had existed in my mind. And now it felt ridiculous. I looked at Sophie. “And you?” Sophie looked up. Her face was wet with tears. “I'm sorry.” I shook my head. “I don't think you are.” “I am.” “No.” My voice hardened. “You are sorry that I found out.” Sophie began crying again. She took a step down the stairs. I raised my hand. “Don't.” She froze. “Please, Lena.” “Don't come closer.” Sophie nodded. I turned away. I couldn't look at either of them anymore. Daniel reached for my wrist. I immediately pulled away. “Don't touch me.” He stopped. His hand remained suspended in the air for a moment before slowly dropping. For the first time since I'd arrived, there was nothing left to say. I walked toward the door. My legs felt strangely heavy. Every step took effort. My hand closed around the handle. Behind me, nobody spoke. Maybe they finally understood. Maybe they finally realized there was no sentence they could say that would put everything back the way it had been. “Lena.” I stopped. Daniel's voice was softer now. “Where are you going?” I looked back at him. “Home.” “Can we talk tomorrow?” I stared at him. Tomorrow. As though tomorrow could repair tonight. As though I'd wake up and somehow forget the image of Sophie standing behind him. “I don't think there's anything left to talk about.” I opened the door. “Lena.” I stepped outside. The cold air hit my face. For one second, I simply stood there. I didn't move. I didn't breathe. I didn't know what to do next. Then the door closed behind me. The sound was quiet. Almost gentle. But it felt final. And that was it. Three years. Gone. --- The moment I reached my car, I broke. I pressed both hands against the steering wheel and cried until my chest hurt. My shoulders shook. I tried to breathe slowly, but every breath caught halfway. I cried for Daniel. For Sophie. For the woman I'd been before tonight. I cried because I'd loved them both. And because neither of them had loved me enough to protect my heart. The parking lot was almost empty. The lights overhead cast pale reflections across my windshield. I could barely see through the tears. My breathing came in uneven gasps. I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel. The leather felt cool against my skin. For a few seconds, I wished I could go back. Not to change what had happened. Just to stop myself from walking through that door. If I hadn't known, maybe I could have continued believing. Maybe ignorance really was easier. Then I remembered the way Daniel had looked at me. You've gained weight. The words repeated themselves. Again. Again. Again. I squeezed my eyes shut. “No.” I whispered it to myself. “No.” But my voice broke. I didn't want his words to become my voice. I didn't want to spend the next year standing in front of mirrors wondering what was wrong with me. I didn't want to hate the body that had carried me through three years of loving him. I didn't want to hate the dress. I didn't want to hate myself. But right then, I didn't know how not to. My phone buzzed. I flinched at the sound. For a moment, I didn't reach for it. Then I looked down. A message from Maya. Maya: Did Daniel like the surprise? I stared at the screen. My vision blurred again. I couldn't type. Another message appeared. Maya: Lena? Then: Maya: Are you okay? I pressed my lips together. A fresh tear rolled down my cheek. I closed my eyes. My fingers trembled as I finally typed. Me: I need you. The reply came almost immediately. Maya: Where are you? I looked through the windshield. The tears blurred the streetlights. I typed four words. Me: Please come get me. Then I put my phone down. I leaned back against the seat and stared at the ceiling of the car. For the first time in three years, I was completely alone. And I'd never felt more lost. I sat there for another few minutes. The engine was still running. The heater blew warm air against my hands. Outside, people walked past without knowing that my entire life had just changed. A couple crossed the parking lot together, laughing. The woman leaned into the man's shoulder. I watched them disappear around the corner. Once, that had been me. I had thought love meant having someone beside you when everything else became uncertain. Now I wondered if sometimes the person beside you was the very thing making you uncertain. I looked down at my hands. They were still trembling. I slowly reached for the rearview mirror. My reflection stared back at me. Mascara streaked beneath my eyes. My hair was messy. My lips were swollen from crying. The emerald dress was still there. The same dress I'd loved an hour ago. I stared at myself for a long moment. Then I remembered the words I'd whispered before leaving home. I look beautiful. I hadn't believed them then. Maybe someday I would. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not next week. But someday. I lowered the mirror. And waited for Maya.Lena For one second, I wondered if I had actually done it. I had. I was kissing him. The realization barely had time to register before everything inside me seemed to tilt. His closeness. The warmth between us. The impossible fact that I had actually crossed the room and done something I had been too afraid to do for years. It felt reckless. It felt completely unlike me. And somehow, it felt like exactly what I needed. It was supposed to be quick. Stupid. A reckless little kiss because Maya had dared me to prove that I could stop wondering whether men found me attractive and simply choose for myself. I had told myself it would mean nothing. A few seconds of courage, a story Maya and I could laugh about later, and then I would return to my carefully controlled life. But the moment my lips touched his, every sensible thought vanished. For those first few seconds, I didn't think about the room. I didn't think about the people. I didn't think about Daniel. I didn't think
Lena By the time we found a quieter corner of the room, I had almost forgotten that I was wearing the blue dress. Almost. The truth was, I could still feel it against my skin. Every time I moved, the fabric reminded me of the decision I'd made earlier that evening. I'd chosen it because I liked it. Not because I thought it would make me look thinner. Not because I thought Daniel would have approved. Not because I wanted to disappear. Just because I liked the way the blue looked. That should have been a small thing. Somehow, it wasn't. There was something strangely powerful about wearing something simply because I wanted to. No calculations. No wondering whether it made my waist look smaller. No turning sideways in front of a mirror. No imagining Daniel's expression. Just blue fabric against my skin. A dress I had chosen for myself. And yet, standing in a room full of women who looked as though they belonged on magazine covers, I could still feel that old instinct cr
Alexandre I hated events like this. I hated the noise. The champagne. The endless conversations that sounded important but rarely were. Most of all, I hated the expectation that I should enjoy myself. Tonight, however, I had no choice. My mother had made that very clear. The Laurent Foundation was announcing a new international arts initiative, and because my family name was attached to it, my attendance was not optional. Neither was the dinner afterward. Neither was the photograph with the foundation board. Neither was the conversation with three investors who had apparently decided that a charity gala was the perfect place to discuss a potential acquisition. Family obligation disguised as philanthropy. That was how these evenings worked. I could have sent someone in my place. I usually did. But this particular foundation had been started by my grandmother, and my mother had reminded me of that fact three times this week. You are not allowed to send Julien. I had la
Lena The event was being held at a private mansion on one of the most beautiful streets I'd ever seen. The car moved slowly along the narrow street, and I found myself pressing closer to the window. Paris had looked beautiful everywhere we went, but this part of the city felt different. Quieter. More polished. More expensive. Even the buildings seemed to know they were beautiful. Tall iron gates surrounded enormous properties. Warm golden light spilled from windows. Elegant trees lined the pavement, their leaves shifting gently in the evening breeze. I adjusted the skirt of my dress over my knees. My fingers wouldn't stop moving. I'd spent nearly an hour getting ready. Maya had insisted on doing my hair. I'd put on earrings I'd almost decided not to wear. I'd stood in front of the mirror three separate times and wondered whether the blue dress had been a terrible idea. Now, sitting in the back of a car headed toward a mansion filled with people I had never met, I was be
Lena I woke up laughing. For a second, the sound surprised me. It was soft and breathless, and it seemed completely out of place in the hotel room. I pressed my face deeper into the pillow, still smiling. I didn't know why at first. Then I opened my eyes and found Maya standing in the middle of the hotel room, wearing sunglasses, holding two cups of coffee, and dancing badly to music playing from her phone. I stared at her. She spun around, nearly losing one of the coffee cups. I immediately sat up. "Maya!" She caught the cup against her chest and looked at me as though I had interrupted something important. "What?" "You're going to spill that." "I wasn't." "You almost did." "Almost doesn't count." "It absolutely counts when it's coffee." She nodded seriously. "Fair." “What are you doing?” Maya froze mid-dance. “Good morning.” “You look ridiculous.” “I look fabulous.” “You're
Lena Paris smelled nothing like home. I noticed that before I noticed anything else. The air carried the scent of rain, freshly baked bread, coffee, and something floral I couldn't quite identify. Cars moved along unfamiliar streets. People hurried past us speaking French, their words flowing together in a language I understood only in fragments. I stood outside the airport with one hand wrapped around the handle of my suitcase and stared at the city beyond the glass doors. The automatic doors opened behind me, releasing another wave of warm airport air before closing again. I could feel the suitcase pulling slightly against my wrist. My fingers tightened around the handle. For days, Paris had existed only as an idea. A booking confirmation on Maya's phone.







