A viral TikTok trend popped into my head as Matthew James merged onto the highway.
I turned to him, keeping my tone light. "You're driving me home—won't your wife get mad?"
I expected a chuckle. Maybe a roll of his eyes.
Instead, his knuckles went white on the steering wheel. The brakes screamed. The car lurched to a stop on the shoulder, throwing me forward against my seatbelt.
The temperature in the cabin plummeted.
"You already know?" His voice was ice.
The playful smile died on my face. I stared at him, blood draining from my cheeks.
Matthew clicked his tongue. His gaze cut through me like a blade. "You are not to tell her. And you are certainly not allowed to make a scene in front of her."
He didn't say the name.
He didn't need to.
*Julia Fox.* His childhood sweetheart.
They had grown up together—two families perfectly matched in wealth and status. Long before I ever met Matthew, their engagement had been carved in stone. The only reason it was ever called off was because Julia went abroad five years ago to chase her dreams.
That broken engagement was the only reason I ever had a chance.
I fell for Matthew the moment I stepped onto campus freshman year. Love at first sight. He always wore that indifferent expression, as if nothing in the world could touch him. I used to think he was just naturally cold.
Only later did I learn his smiles were reserved exclusively for her.
I chased him for two years. I poured my heart out, enduring his cold shoulders until I had nothing left to give.
Finally, one night when he was dead drunk, he looked at me with desperate eyes. "Audrey," he'd pleaded, his voice raw. "Let's be together."
I drove him home that night, my heart soaring. I thought I had finally melted the ice.
But the next morning, the walls slammed back up. He treated me like a stranger—until I showed him the video of his drunken confession.
He sighed, looking utterly defeated. "Fine. Let's try."
Despite his cold nature, Matthew treated me well enough. He surprised me with gifts. Expensive clothes. Designer bags. He kissed me with a hunger that felt almost like love.
He never introduced me to his friends. Never made us official. But I didn't mind. Since the day I added him on social media, his feed had been empty. I convinced myself he just wasn't the type to post about his personal life. I told myself our connection didn't need a digital paper trail to be real.
But now, sitting in his idling car, my world crumbled.
My nose stung. A dull ache spread through my chest, making my limbs tremble. Tears escaped despite my best efforts.
"Matthew... you could have rejected me. You could have just not liked me. But why did you *lie* to me?"
He paused, his brow furrowing as if *I* were the one being unreasonable. "You were the one who said you'd never leave me."
"If you love me," he continued, his tone clinical, "then just pretend you don't know. We can keep things exactly as they are. Isn't that enough?"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
I loved him, yes. But I wasn't a doormat. I wasn't a clown for him to juggle.
I had *dignity.*
A shaky breath. I forced my voice steady. "When did she come back?"
Seeing that I had stopped crying, Matthew relaxed. He put the car in gear and merged into traffic, his tone casual. "Two months ago. I picked her up from the airport."
