“Who are they?”
He froze.
The mug clinked against the counter.
Then he said the classic line, like he thought it still had power:
“Brooke… it’s not what you think.”
I told him what I found.
His face went pale.
He tried to shrink the truth into something manageable.
“It just happened,” he whispered.
I laughed — not because it was funny, but because it was insane.
“Six years of ‘just happening’?”
Then he said the sentence that finally killed whatever was left in me:
“You’re stronger. I thought you’d understand.”
Stronger.
That’s what he called it.
Like my strength made me responsible for carrying his double life.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
