Chapter 17: secrets
1164 Words
I sat in class, trying to focus on the teacher's words, but my mind kept wandering back to Ethan. I couldn't believe how much my life had changed since we met. I was no longer just a student, but a woman in love, with a future to plan.
As I doodled in my notebook, I couldn't help but think about our wedding plans. I had always dreamed of a small, intimate ceremony, surrounded by friends and family. And now, it was finally going to happen.
But for now, I had to keep my focus on school. I had to maintain my grades, for myself and for Ethan. He believed in me, and I couldn't let him down.
I glanced around the classroom, feeling grateful for this normal, everyday moment. It was moments like these that I cherished, moments of peace and tranquility before the chaos of life began.
As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, I packed up my things and headed out into the hallway. I had a free period next, and I was looking forward to spending some time in the library, lost in a good book.
But as I walked down the hallway, I couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was watching me. I looked around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just students rushing to their next class.
I pushed the feeling aside and continued on my way. But the sensation lingered, leaving me with a sense of unease.
As I settled into my favorite spot in the library, I tried to focus on my book. But my mind kept wandering back to the feeling of being watched. I looked around the library, but everyone seemed engrossed in their own studies.
I shook my head, chiding myself for being paranoid. But the feeling persisted.
Just as I was starting to relax, I saw a figure out of the corner of my eye. I turned to see a woman with piercing green eyes staring at me.
I felt a shiver run down my spine as she smiled and began to walk towards me.
"Elsie," she said, her voice low and husky. "We need to talk."
I felt a sense of trepidation as she sat down beside me. Who was this woman, and what did she want?
"What is it?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"It's about Ethan," she said, her eyes glinting with a knowing look. "You don't know him as well as you think you do."
My heart began to race as she leaned in closer. What secrets was she about to reveal?
"What do you mean?" I asked, my mind racing with possibilities.
"Ethan has a past," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "A past that he's kept hidden from you."
I felt a surge of denial. "That's not true," I said. "Ethan would never keep secrets from me."
The woman smiled, a knowing glint in her eye. "You're wrong, Elsie. Ethan has secrets, and they're big ones."
I felt a chill run down my spine as she pulled out a folder filled with papers and photographs.
"Look at this," she said, handing me a photo of Ethan with a woman I had never seen before. "This is Ethan's ex-fiancée. They were together for years, and he never told you about her."
I felt like I had been punched in the gut. Why hadn't Ethan told me about this?
The woman kept talking, revealing more secrets and lies. I felt like my whole world was crashing down around me.
As I sat there, stunned and reeling, the woman got up and left. I was left alone, wondering what to believe and who to trust.
I sat in stunned silence, the folder still clutched in my hand. My mind was racing with questions and doubts. Why had Ethan kept this from me? Who was this woman? And what else was he hiding?
I felt a wave of nausea wash over me as I thought about all the times Ethan had told me he loved me, all the times he had promised to be honest with me. Had it all been a lie?
I didn't know what to do or who to turn to. Part of me wanted to confront Ethan, to demand answers and explanations. But another part of me was scared, scared of what I might find out, scared of losing him.
As I sat there, frozen in indecision, I heard a voice behind me.
"Elsie, what's wrong?"
It was my best friend, Sarah. She had been studying at a nearby table and had noticed my distress.
I hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But something about Sarah's kind face and concerned eyes made me trust her.
"I need to talk to you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Sarah nodded and sat down beside me. "What is it?" she asked.
I took a deep breath and handed her the folder. "Read this," I said. "And then tell me what to do."
Sarah's eyes widened as she scanned the contents of the folder. "Where did you get this?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.
"The woman who was just here gave it to me," I replied, my eyes welling up with tears. "She said Ethan has been keeping secrets from me, that he has a past he never told me about."
Sarah's expression turned from shock to anger. "That's ridiculous," she said. "Ethan loves you, Elsie. He would never keep something like this from you."
But as she looked through the folder again, her expression faltered. "This looks serious," she said. "We need to talk to Ethan, find out what's going on."
I nodded, feeling a sense of determination wash over me. "You're right," I said. "I deserve to know the truth."
Sarah put her arm around me. "We'll get to the bottom of this, Elsie.
I walked through the opulent hallway of Ethan's mansion, my heart racing with anticipation and fear. I had been staying here for a few days, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off.
I stopped in front of the study door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open. Ethan looked up from his desk, a look of surprise on his face.
"Elsie, what's wrong?" he asked, standing up.
I walked towards him, the folder clutched in my hand. "We need to talk," I said, my voice firm.
Ethan's expression faltered, and he nodded. "Of course. What is it?"
I handed him the folder, my eyes locked onto his. "Explain this," I said.
Ethan's eyes scanned the contents of the folder, his face growing pale. "Where did you get this?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
"That's not important," I said. "What's important is that you tell me the truth. Who is she? And why did you keep this from me?"
Ethan sighed, rubbing his temples. "Elsie, I...I can explain."
"Try," I said, my arms crossed.
- Writer
