Soulmates

Chapter 3: The Distance Between Us

“You may want to know who your wife really is. Ask her about her ‘friend’ Ethan Miles from Buffalo. Ask her why she kept that part of her life hidden from you.”

“Some girls marry up. Some girls play the long game.”

Kiera’s hands trembled as she placed it back, heart pounding. She had known Ethan — a classmate in Buffalo who once confessed feelings for her. She had gently turned him down. That was it. But now… someone was trying to twist that past into something ugly.

She waited anxiously for Aaron to read it. For the moment he’d confront her.

But he didn’t.

That night, he came home, tired but gentle. They had dinner. Talked. Laughed even, briefly. And Kiera knew what that meant.

He hadn’t seen the letter yet.

Meanwhile, Fiona sat across from Sabrina in the gallery office, her expression ice-cold.

“She didn’t react,” Fiona said. “That girl’s more composed than I expected.”

“So we go further,” Sabrina replied. “A little more pressure. Make Aaron question her — even for a second. That’s all we need.”

The next morning, Aaron finally saw the envelope. Fiona made sure of it — casually handing him some papers with the letter hidden in the stack.

Aaron paused when he saw the words.

He read it twice.

His face didn’t change much — but his silence deepened.

He didn’t confront Kiera that day. Or the next.

But his warmth cooled. His questions became shorter. His glances less frequent.

Kiera felt it.

One night, she finally said it aloud.

“Something’s wrong.”

“No,” Aaron replied too quickly. “I’m just... distracted.”

But Kiera’s voice was firmer this time.

“You read something. Or someone said something.”

Aaron looked at her, eyes narrowed slightly.

“Do you know someone named Ethan Miles?”

Silence.

Kiera nodded slowly. “He was just a classmate. He liked me. I didn’t feel the same. That was it.”

Aaron didn’t accuse her. He didn’t raise his voice. But the doubt in his eyes stung her more than anything else.

“Why didn’t you ever mention him?”

“Because there was nothing to mention.”

And yet, she could see the wedge had been driven.

That night, Kiera sat alone again — this time not on the balcony, but on the floor of her room, knees pulled to her chest, staring at the glittering skyline that now felt like a cage.

“I didn’t lie,” she whispered.

“Why does it still feel like I’m losing?”

In the hallway outside, Fiona passed by Aaron, pausing briefly.

“Be careful who you trust, Aaron,” she said with a mother’s knowing look.

“You’re not just a husband. You’re a name. A legacy. Don’t let emotions blind you.”

Aaron didn’t respond.

But in his chest, something cracked — not a full break, not yet, but the first fracture.

And once doubt enters love… it never leaves quietly.

The silence between Aaron and Kiera had changed.

Before, it was just unfamiliarity. Two strangers learning how to be around each other.

But now… it was filled with uncertainty. And doubt.

Aaron hadn’t spoken much since asking about Ethan. He hadn’t accused her, but he hadn’t reassured her either. His words had grown distant. His presence… polite, but cold.

Kiera, on the other hand, was unraveling quietly.

She cooked meals he barely touched. She waited up late just to say goodnight. And when he left early in the morning, she would linger by the door, watching him walk away — feeling like she was already being left behind.

One morning, Fiona sat beside Kiera at breakfast.

“Aaron used to be more focused before he got married,” she said casually, slicing into her grapefruit.

“He’s changed. Softened.”

Kiera didn’t reply.

“You know, some women ruin men without even trying,” Fiona continued, smiling sweetly. “Just by existing.”

Still, Kiera said nothing. But Fiona didn’t need a response — she just wanted the words to sink in.

That week, Aaron left for a three-day business trip to Boston. Before, he would’ve told Kiera in advance. Maybe even asked if she needed anything. This time?

He left a text.

“Flying to Boston. Back Friday.”

No goodbye. No warmth.

Kiera stared at the message for minutes, rereading it like it would change.

While Aaron was away, Sabrina made her move.

She dropped by the penthouse with two cups of coffee — one for herself, one for Fiona — but “accidentally” brought a third.

“Oh, Kiera,” she said with mock surprise, “I didn’t know you were home. Want one? Or do you prefer tea like people in... small towns?”

Kiera took the cup calmly.

“Tea or coffee doesn’t define class. But kindness might.”

Sabrina smiled tightly. “Touché.”

Then she leaned in.

“You know, Aaron doesn’t really open up to anyone. Except me. Always has. You’re just… someone he married. But I’m someone he trusts.”

Kiera didn’t flinch. “If he trusts you more, that’s his choice. I won’t compete for what’s already mine.”

Sabrina’s smile vanished.

Fiona, watching from the hallway, narrowed her eyes.

That evening, Kiera opened her laptop and video-called her mother back in Buffalo.

It had been weeks.

The moment her mother’s face appeared, Kiera broke down.

“I don’t know if he believes in me anymore,” she whispered.

“I’m trying, Mom. But I feel like I’m fading in this house.”

Her mother’s words were gentle but steady.

“You don’t need to prove your worth to people who’ve already made up their minds. But if Aaron has a heart… he’ll see you.”

Friday evening, Aaron returned.

Kiera greeted him at the door, hopeful. But his eyes were tired, unreadable.

“How was Boston?” she asked.

“Busy,” he said, brushing past.

That night, they sat at the same dinner table but miles apart.

Then, just as she was about to speak, his phone buzzed. A message from Sabrina lit up.

“Dinner next week? Like old times.”

Kiera saw it. Aaron didn’t hide it. He just turned the screen face-down.

Her heart sank.

Later, while Aaron worked in his study, Fiona walked in.

“You need to be careful, Aaron,” she said, tone low and motherly. “That girl… she’s watching everything you do.”

“She’s my wife, Mom,” he said sharply.

“So was your father’s mistress once,” Fiona replied.

“And look where that got us.”

Aaron said nothing.

Fiona placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I just don’t want history repeating itself.”

In her room, Kiera stood at the mirror, looking at herself.

She barely recognized the girl in the reflection anymore.

This was the first time she whispered aloud what she was most afraid of:

“I think he’s slipping away from me.”

Three weeks had passed since Aaron began pulling away — slowly, subtly, but unmistakably.

Where there had once been soft smiles and warm silences, now there was indifference. Conversations became mechanical. Eye contact brief. He no longer waited for her during dinners or asked about her day. Even their once-shared balcony moments vanished — like memories erased one by one.

Kiera tried.

She told herself it was just work stress. That maybe it would pass. That maybe love didn’t need constant proof to be real.

But even hope needs light.

And Aaron was giving her none.

One afternoon, while Aaron was at work, Sabrina showed up again — this time with photos.

She walked into the penthouse like she belonged there, her heels echoing confidently across the wooden floor. Fiona met her in the lounge.

“He’s almost there,” Sabrina said, setting down a sleek black envelope. “Just a little more.”

Inside were photos — old ones, digitally enhanced, carefully chosen. One showed Kiera sitting beside Ethan at a Buffalo cafe. Another showed them walking out of a university library, her laughing, him looking at her.

They weren’t romantic. They weren’t even recent. But they were enough to make a story out of.

“And the story?” Fiona asked coldly.

“That she was in love with Ethan. That she used Aaron to escape a scandal back home. That this marriage was never about love — only survival.”

That evening, Fiona invited Aaron to her room.

“I know you won’t believe me,” she said, “so look for yourself.”

She slid the photos across the coffee table.

Aaron didn’t want to look. But he did.

His fingers clenched around the prints. His heart pounded in confusion and disbelief. The image of Kiera laughing beside another man — even years ago — felt like a betrayal. Not because of what it was. But because of what she hadn’t said.

“Why didn’t she ever tell me?” he muttered.

Fiona sighed, feigning pity.

“Maybe because it would ruin the perfect image. Or maybe, Aaron… because it’s true.”

Aaron didn’t confront Kiera immediately.

But that night, he didn’t return home.

Kiera waited.

She sat on the edge of the couch until midnight. Her phone silent. Her heart screaming.

At 2 a.m., she finally went to bed — fully dressed, phone still clutched in her hand.

The next morning, he walked in without apology.

“Where were you?” Kiera asked, voice trembling.

“Out,” he replied. Cold. Distant.

“You didn’t call. You didn’t reply. Aaron, is something going on?”

He turned to face her.

“You tell me. Who was Ethan Miles to you?”

Silence.

Kiera froze. So he had seen the photos. The trap had been sprung.

“He was a friend. Nothing more.”

“And you never thought to tell me about these little coffee dates? These late-night walks outside the library?”

Her voice broke.

“Because they didn’t mean anything.”

“Maybe not to you,” he said. “But it meant something to someone. And now everyone thinks—”

“Thinks what?” she snapped, pain laced in her words. “That I seduced you for money? That I’m pretending to love a man who won’t even look me in the eyes anymore?”

Aaron looked away. Which hurt more than yelling ever could.

That night, Kiera packed a small bag.

Not to leave — but to clear her mind. She needed space. She needed breath.