Exposed At The Altar のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

I was at Clara’s apartment when Maya called.I almost didn’t answer.She rarely calls me directly. Most of the time she spoke to Daniel or Clara first.But the phone kept ringing.Clara noticed the name on the screen.“Maya?” she asked.“Yes.”“You should answer.”I picked up.“Hello?”Maya didn’t greet me.“Where are you?”“With Clara.”“Good.”Her tone sounded strange.“I’ll come there,” she said.“Is something wrong?”“I just need to talk.”The call ended before I could ask anything else.Clara looked at me.“What did she want?”“She said she’s coming here.”Clara frowned slightly.“That’s unusual.”“Yes.”“Did she sound upset?”“I’m not sure.”Clara leaned back on the couch.“Well, we’ll find out soon.”Maya arrived about forty minutes later.Clara’s mom opened the door and let her in.Maya walked straight into the living room.Her eyes moved from Clara to me.“You look better,” she said to Clara.“I am better.”“That’s good.”Then she looked at me again.“We need to talk.”Clara

Lina’s POV The house felt different the moment I walked in. Not strange. Just… empty. I locked the door behind me and dropped my bag on the couch. No sound followed. Normally, something would. A question. A comment. Even just movement. Now—nothing. I walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, stared at it for a few seconds, then shut it again. Not hungry. I took a glass, poured water, drank half of it, then left the rest on the counter. I didn’t bother putting it back. I moved back into the living room and sat down. Then stood up again almost immediately. I didn’t know what to do with myself. So I just stood there. My phone rang. Clara. I let it ring. She called again. I picked up this time. “Hi.” “You sound off,” she said. “I’m okay.” “No, you’re not.” “I am.” “Lina.” “Yes?” “Did you tell him?” “Yes.” Silence. “And?” she asked. “He knows.” “That’s not what I asked.” “He left.” Another pause. “Left where?” “I don’t know.” “You didn’t ask?” “No

Lina’s POV I closed the wardrobe door and leaned against it for a second, letting the quiet settle around me. The apartment felt… too empty. Too still. It was like the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. I hadn’t realized how much I relied on the noise of normal life—Daniel moving around, Clara talking, the tiny hum of the fridge—until it all went silent. I moved over to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water, trying to shake the heaviness that had settled over me. My hands were steady, but my mind was anything but. I kept thinking about the last time I saw Daniel. The way he had left after our conversation, the way his eyes had looked when he said, “We’re trying.” Trying. That one word had echoed over and over since he walked out. I sat at the counter, letting my fingers trace the edge of the glass. I could still hear Maya’s voice in my head, the way she’d kept insisting there were gaps, that things didn’t add up. I didn’t need her to tell m

I didn’t move from the sofa. My hands were pressed together, fingers tangled, but my mind wouldn’t stop. Daniel had left, and the apartment felt hollow in a way that even Clara’s presence couldn’t fill. She was sitting across from me, quietly unpacking groceries, humming to herself—but I wasn’t really seeing her. My focus was on the absence. On him. I hated that I missed him. I hated that every time my phone buzzed, my heart leapt, hoping it was him, even though logic told me not to. “You can’t keep punishing yourself like this,” Clara said softly, her voice careful, like she was trying not to wake a sleeping storm. I shook my head, forcing a laugh I didn’t feel. “I’m not punishing myself,” I said. But it came out hollow. I was punishing myself, holding onto every bit of guilt, every thought of what I should have said, what I should have done differently. Clara didn’t answer. She just kept unpacking the groceries, laying each item down with precision, as if the act of doing somethi

Lina’s POV I hadn’t expected it today. Not really. But there was a subtle shift in the air, a tension that prickled my skin the moment I heard the soft click of the front door. My heart stuttered—not with fear, but with anticipation. Clara was asleep in her crib, her tiny chest rising and falling in rhythm with her dreams. Maya was downstairs, probably brewing tea, humming quietly to herself. And yet, for a moment, the house felt impossibly quiet, like it was holding its breath along with me. I sat on the edge of the sofa, hands clasped tightly, eyes fixed on the door. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound made me flinch. And then I heard it: his footsteps. Slow, deliberate, familiar. The kind of steps that could once make my chest ache with longing or panic, depending on the day. Daniel. The name barely left my lips before it caught in my throat. I couldn’t look up. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts—anger, relief, hope, fear. He had left. He had gone. And yet here