It took me two years of dating Maxwell before I finally built up the nerve to take off my clothes in front of him. My hands were shaking, and my heart was pounding in my chest.

But he just silently helped me put my clothes back on, his voice soft as he said, "It's okay. I'll respect your decision."

At the time, those words brought tears to my eyes. I thought his respect meant he truly cared, and I let myself drown in the fantasy of his love.

But now, in hindsight, it was clear—

He'd already been sleeping with Bella.

The realization made me feel sick to my stomach, and I barely made it to the bathroom before I started dry-heaving.

I slumped against the cold tile, pressing a shaky hand to my belly.

Memories flooded my mind, each one more painful than the last.

I had never seen Bella for who she really was.

When we first met, we bonded over being bullied at school.

Our shared suffering had made us close.

I trusted her completely, told her everything, and laid my soul bare.

And while I was pouring my heart out, she was quietly taking notes on everything Maxwell liked.

I had been so blind.

So trusting.

And for three years, she kept me in the dark while she and Maxwell carried on behind my back.

I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in the quiet room.

Four years of love, three years of betrayal.

Maxwell, you had some treating me like a fool, didn't you?

5

I took a cab back to the apartment Maxwell and I shared.

I hadn't even opened the door when I overheard his friend's voice from inside.

"Chloe probably knows about you and Bella now."

My hand froze on the doorknob.

So this was common knowledge?

Had I been the only one left in the dark?

Maxwell's voice came next, lazy and unconcerned.

"So what if she knows? We've been living together for four years. Who else is gonna want her now? She's a used toy."

I heard the clink of glasses.

"And let's not forget her mom's a murderer. Who's gonna be okay with that? Honestly, I've done more for her than anyone else would. What more does she want?"

I felt my blood turn to ice.

Four years as his girlfriend, and this is what he thought of me? Just the daughter of a murderer?

Old scars I had long buried ripped open, raw and bleeding.

When I was seven, my dad fell from a construction site. He plummeted twenty stories, landing on a steel rod that impaled him. He died instantly.

My mom dragged me to the site, desperate for justice.

The heartless contractor tossed us five thousand dollars, as if that could buy my dad's life.

My mom had cried for days. Then, one day, she stopped crying.

When I was ten, she brought a man home, telling me to call him "Dad."

I refused. She slapped me hard across the face, her eyes bloodshot with frustration.

From that day on, I never spoke to her again.

On my sixteenth birthday, my mom was working the night shift. I stayed home doing homework when my stepfather came back drunk, his breath heavy with alcohol.

There was something dark in his eyes as he cornered me, his breath hot and foul against my neck. His hands were on me, tearing at my clothes.

I screamed and fought, but he was stronger.

It wasn't long before I was pinned beneath him.

His voice was slurred, full of twisted satisfaction. "I've been raising you since you were ten. It's time you pay me back."

Terror paralyzed me as I felt him fumbling with his belt. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for the worst.

And then, a loud thud.

When he turned, he saw my mother standing in the doorway, her hands trembling around the heavy object she'd used to hit him.

I grabbed my clothes, trembling as I crawled behind her.

Her eyes were protective, like a mother wolf shielding her cub.

When he lunged toward me again, drunk and out of his mind—

My mother didn't hesitate. She stabbed him in the neck.

Blood sprayed everywhere, splattering across my face.

I curled up in a corner, shaking uncontrollably.

But my mother stayed calm, unusually so. She held me close, whispering over and over, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I didn't know what else to do but collapse into her arms, tears streaming down my face, and for the first time in years, I whispered, "Mom."