She began crying harder.
“It started months ago.”
The ballroom seemed to shrink around us.
Months.
I had expected weeks.
A reckless mistake during wedding preparations.
Some terrible lapse that had spiraled out of control.
Months meant birthdays, dinners, ordinary mornings and nights when Itan had kissed me goodbye while carrying this secret.
I looked at him.
“How many?”
“Chloe—”
“How many months?”
He rubbed a hand over his face.
“Does the number really matter?”
That was his second mistake.
“Yes,” I said.
“It matters to the person whose life you were lying through.”
He lowered his voice.
“We should discuss this privately.”
I almost laughed.
He had chosen secrecy when secrecy protected him.
Now that the truth was exposed, suddenly he wanted dignity and privacy.
“No.”
His expression changed.
For years I had known Itan as gentle, attentive, controlled.
I had mistaken that control for kindness.
Now I saw what happened when control stopped serving him.
“You’re really going to destroy five years over this?” he demanded.
I stared at him.
“You destroyed five years.
I just found out.”
Several guests turned away from him in disgust.
Sofia flinched.
Liam pressed the remote again.
The final photograph appeared.
It was the clearest one.
Sofia and Itan stood beside a parked car.
Her hand rested against his chest.
His face was lowered close to hers.
There was no plausible explanation left.
Liam set the remote down.
“I kept thinking I needed one more piece of proof,” he said.
“One photograph clear enough that nobody could tell me I was imagining things.”
He looked at Sofia.
“Then Chloe found you kissing him on our wedding day.”
Our wedding day.
The phrase landed heavily.
Sofia stepped closer.
“I love you.”
“No,” Liam replied.
She blinked.
“You can be angry, but don’t tell me what I feel.”
“I’m telling you what love doesn’t look like.”
His voice remained quiet.
“That’s all.”
She reached for him again.
