Claire had been pacing her apartment for over an hour, the phone clutched tightly in her hand like a loaded weapon. Every time she thought about putting it down, her mind replayed Amelia’s voice from earlier the previous day—tentative, vulnerable, and full of confusion about Andrew.
“I slept with Andrew,” Amelia had whispered. “I couldn't stop myself.”
Claire had forced a tight smile, nodding in all the right places, pretending not to feel every word like a blade sliding beneath her ribs. She’d listened—like a good friend should. Like the loyal woman she no longer wanted to be.
After all, loyalty had gotten her nowhere but heartbroken and used.
She sat on the edge of her bed now, staring down at the screen glowing with Brad’s name. The little contact photo she’d saved years ago stared
