Chapter 5
621 Words
"Chapter 6: In the Absence of Proof
Zara never imagined herself the type to dig through someone's life.
She had always been the kind of woman who asked directly, who confronted truth with eyes wide open. But love—especially love with cracks running through its foundation—made you behave in ways you never thought you would.
So she started watching.
Quietly. Carefully.
Because Kael wouldn’t give her answers.
So maybe Sora would.
She began with what little she had.
Social media.
Sora’s profiles were curated like a mood board—vibrant, untamed, unapologetically loud. Snaps from wine bars, sunset photos from rooftops, quotes that read like diary confessions:
“You don’t owe anyone your loyalty when they treat it like a favor.”
“Some connections aren’t meant to be explained.”
Each caption felt like a riddle.
Each photo that included Kael—even if his name was never tagged—was a pinprick to Zara’s chest.
But none of it was concrete.
Nothing that screamed affair.
Nothing she could take to Kael and say, “This. This is what you’ve hidden.”
Just insinuations.
Just feeling.
One afternoon, Zara sat alone in her car across from Hollow House Café, a trendy corner spot where Sora liked to work and be seen.
She told herself she was there because it was close to the boutique she was visiting.
But that was a lie.
She was there for Sora.
Watching.
Sora sat inside by the window, laptop open, sipping her tea with that signature nonchalance—like she had the world on a string and didn’t need to explain herself to anyone.
Zara studied her carefully.
Was there something in the way she smiled at the waiter?
Was she the type who collected secrets and kept men just close enough?
Zara waited for a signal. A visitor. A text. A lover’s rendezvous.
But nothing came.
After an hour, Sora closed her laptop, paid, and left—alone.
No phone call. No Kael.
Just… silence.
Zara exhaled, exhausted by her own thoughts.
This was the third time she’d done something like this in a week. She was unraveling, and she knew it. But she couldn’t stop. Not until something proved she wasn’t crazy for what she felt.
She needed to be right.
Because the alternative—that Kael wasn’t lying, that nothing was happening—meant she had been the one slowly poisoning the love they’d built with her own fears.
Later that night, she opened Kael’s drawer.
Just for a moment.
Just to see.
His cologne. His watch. A cufflink. Nothing out of place.
Except...
A folded receipt tucked behind his wallet. A boutique flower shop.
One single stem: white peony.
Delivery date: last week.
No note. No name.
Not for her.
Zara had received no flowers.
Still... even this wasn’t proof.
It was a whisper of something, but not enough.
And that—that—was what undid her the most.
There were no lipstick stains. No photos. No midnight confessions.
Just silence.
Just Kael’s quiet smiles and Sora’s cryptic words.
Just doubt wrapped in silk and sealed with subtlety.
Back in bed, Kael rolled toward her in his sleep, arm slipping around her waist like muscle memory.
Zara stared at the ceiling, his breath warm against her neck.
She didn’t move.
Not because she forgave.
Not because she trusted.
But because she was still searching—for truth, for peace, for the version of love that didn’t have her constantly second-guessing herself.
And in that darkness, she whispered to herself a truth that hurt more than anything:
“Sometimes, the worst betrayal isn’t what’s done behind your back… but what’s never said to your face.”"
- Writer
