Dallas, you're... awake?" Aryan's body went rigid in an instant, while Gloria's face drained of all color.
"This isn't what it looks like..." she stammered.
I said nothing. Just watched as Aryan clumsily untangled himself from Gloria. He scrambled for the clothes he'd carelessly tossed around the living room, sweat beading on his forehead. In his panic, he yanked the covers up over Gloria, who was still undressed.
"She's not decent—just let her lie there for a bit."
I took in the mess around me, their guilty faces. The sheer absurdity of it slammed into me. I hadn't come looking for this, and yet here it was, laid bare right in front of me.
I forced myself to stay calm, sinking into a chair. "When did this start?"
"...Four years ago, during the East End project," Aryan admitted, his voice small, head bowed. "You asked me to show her the ropes. She kept messing up, and I lost my cool on her—like, a lot. One day she just broke down crying. And in that moment, her vulnerability... it got to me. I lost my head."
"After that, I figured you wouldn't find out, so I kept seeing her. It went on until now."
I dug my nails into my palms, fighting to keep it together. "That project where you brought her along? I drank so much damn coffee for those meetings I ended up in the hospital with a bleeding ulcer. You two came to visit me, blaming each other for not taking better care of me. It was all just a show for my sake, while you were sneaking around behind my back?"
Guilt flooded Aryan's eyes. He nodded. "It wasn't like that! I lost control, and I'm so sorry, Dallas. I betrayed your trust."
"Let's end this."
My voice came out tired. "Get out of my house before I lose it."
Aryan's head snapped up, in shock. "No— let's not break up! We're so close to getting married, Dallas. Can't you forgive me, just this once?"
I let out a bitter laugh. "Once? Four years of lies, and you call it 'once'?"
My eyes burned with tears as I turned to Gloria. "You think I'm some kind of fool? So naive you thought you could claim to love me while stabbing me in the back?"
Huddled under the sheets, tears streaming down her face, Gloria whimpered, "I'm sorry, Dallas. Do whatever you want to me."
"I couldn't help how I felt. I shouldn't have fallen for him..."
With that, she climbed out of bed, and the red marks on her body scorched themselves into my vision.
"And this is what you call being a friend? This is your gratitude for everything I've done for you?"
Overwhelmed, I grabbed the photo album on the bedside table and hurled it. Glass shattered across the floor, our engagement photo slipping out. I snatched it up and tore it to pieces.
"Get out! Both of you!"
Gloria fled the room, sobbing. But Aryan knelt down on the broken glass, his eyes full of anguish.
"I don't deserve you, but I can't let this end. Please, Dallas, give me another chance. I won't screw up again!"
His knees bled as he pressed his face into my hand. "I love you. I don't want to lose you."
After that moment, it was like Aryan finally woke up to the consequences. He cut all ties with Gloria, acting like she didn't exist, dodging any chance of running into her.
He made all his messages and calls an open book, clocked in and out of work on the dot, and gave me hourly updates on where he was. Even though the sight of him made me sick every single day, he'd just kneel there quietly, waiting for my anger to burn out.
A week later, Gloria handed in her resignation. Attached to it was a copy of her pregnancy test results.
