Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The sound of the door slamming behind him echoed in John’s ears.
He stood there, staring at the wood grain, waiting for it to open again. Waiting for her to call his name, to ask him to come back in to talk it out.
She didn’t.
Finally, he turned and walked away, each step heavier than the last. By the time he hit the sidewalk, his chest ached like he’d taken a punch.
You knew. And you didn’t tell me.
Her words were going to haunt him.
He raked a hand through his hair, dragging in the cool night air, but it didn’t clear his head. All he saw was her face—the disbelief, the betrayal, the way she’d pulled back from his touch as if his hands had burned her.
He’d thought she’d known. He’d honestly thought she’d known. How could he have guessed Erik never told her?
But the part that cut deepest, the part that was on him, was his silence when he’d first learned of Erik’s duplicity.
Erik had been his friend. John had known his faults. But Zoe had become his friend, too. Should he have told her?
He could imagine how it would’ve gone. He’d tell her, she’d shoot the messenger, then run to Erik, who would deny everything.
You could have tried.
The words circled in his head like a drumbeat.
He’d been a coward.
He knew it, felt it.
John shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched, and headed toward his rental. He didn’t notice the streets he passed.
All he could think about was the one promise he’d made to himself, the one line he’d sworn never to cross. He would always keep her safe.
Tonight she’d looked at him as if he was the one who had betrayed her.
That was what hurt the most.
Because the last thing he’d ever wanted to do was hurt the woman he loved.
Zoe curled on the corner of her parents’ couch, a blanket pulled tight around her shoulders. Her mother sat across from her, hands wrapped around a mug of chamomile tea.
“I feel stupid,” Zoe admitted, her voice hoarse. “He knew, Mom. For months. He knew what Erik was doing, and he never told me.”
Her mother’s gaze softened. “You don’t sound stupid to me. You sound hurt. Betrayed. That’s a very human reaction.”
Zoe pressed her lips together, fighting the rise of tears. “I just keep thinking…if he really loved me, wouldn’t he have told me?”
Her mom took a moment, setting down her cup, leaning forward slightly. “Right now, you’re equating love with always making the right choice. But love doesn’t erase human flaws. People mess up, sometimes badly, not because they don’t care, but because they don’t know how to handle a situation.”
Zoe sat up straighter, her breaking voice sharp. “Are you saying what he did was right?”
“I’m not saying anything of the sort.” Her mother reached over, covering Zoe’s hand with her own. “John’s silence hurt you deeply, and that matters. But things are rarely as black and white as they seem.”
“Mom, can we skip the therapy-speak and you just tell me what you really mean, please?” Zoe asked in a hoarse whisper.
“I’m saying intention matters, too. Did he stay quiet to protect Erik, or because he was afraid of hurting you even more?” Trinity inclined her head. “What would you do if you discovered Brynn was cheating on Callum?”
“She would never—”
“Hypothetically,” her mom said gently. “She’s your friend, but so is Callum. Right?”
Zoe slowly nodded.
“Would you go to Callum? Or would you speak with Brynn first and tell her she needed to come clean?”
Zoe’s throat worked. She hadn’t thought of it that way. “I’d go to Brynn.”
The tears came then, slow and hot. “But John…I just wish he’d have told me.”
Her mother squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to decide anything tonight.
Let yourself feel all the hurt and anger and betrayal.
Grieve it. Later, when the sharpness fades, you can ask yourself whether the relationship you have with John is worth working through the past. Don’t rush. Give yourself space.”
Zoe nodded, clutching the blanket tighter. For the first time since John had walked out her door, she felt her breathing ease.
But deep down, she still ached for the one thing she hadn’t gotten from him—honesty, when it mattered most.
The next day, John sat on the porch steps of his rental, a beer dangling loosely from his hand. The bottle was warm—he hadn’t touched it in twenty minutes.
His phone buzzed, and his heart lurched. Not Zoe. Michael.
He hesitated, then accepted the FaceTime request.
“Jesus, you look like hell,” Michael said. “Don’t bother denying it. Something obviously happened.”
John let out a humorless laugh. “Zoe told me it was over. Can’t say I blame her.”
Michael was quiet for a long moment. “Sorry to hear that. What happened?”
“Turns out Erik never told her about the cheating.” John’s jaw tightened as he explained quickly.
“She thought he dumped her because she wasn’t good enough for him.
And when she realized I’d known all along that he was cheating on her…
” He shook his head. “She looked at me like I was no better than him.”
Michael swore softly. “She just found out the bastard had been cheating on her?”
“Yeah. She had no clue. He gave her some bullshit excuse about needing someone with bigger dreams.” John’s grip tightened around the bottle. “I should’ve told her. Looking back, I wish I had. But it’s too late now.”
For a while, only the crickets filled the silence.
Finally, Michael leaned closer to the screen, his voice steady.
“Look, you gave your friend the benefit of the doubt and believed he’d do the right thing for the woman he claimed to love.
It’s understandable, even if it turned out to be the wrong call.
But, John, don’t equate making a bad choice to being a bad man. ”
John’s throat worked. “What if she doesn’t see the difference?”
“Then you give her time. Let her be angry. She has a right to be. But don’t give up. If you love her, you prove it—every day, in the present. That’s what counts.”
John stared out into the dark yard, his chest aching with the weight of both regret and hope.
He wanted to believe his brother was right. That one mistake didn’t erase everything.
The memory of Zoe’s expression—the disbelief, the hurt—told him regaining her trust would be an uphill road.
But it was a road he was willing to travel if it meant finding his way back to her.
Zoe let herself into her apartment, the silence pressing down on her the moment the door closed behind her. She leaned against it for a beat, drained, before finally pushing off and setting her bag on the counter.
The place felt foreign tonight, as if it belonged to someone else. Just yesterday, it had been filled with warmth—takeout cartons spread across the table, John’s laughter threading through the rooms. Now it was just quiet. Too quiet.
She curled up on the couch, tucking a throw blanket around her shoulders, but the shiver running through her had nothing to do with the autumn chill.
Her mother’s words still echoed in her head. Intention matters. People didn’t always make the right choices, even when they cared.
She pulled her knees closer, staring at the dark window. Maybe her mom was right—maybe it wasn’t black and white.
Still, the betrayal scraped deeper the more she thought about it. Not because of Erik—she could see now that losing him had been a blessing in disguise—but because of John. How could he have kept something like that from her?
She pressed her fist against her chest as if she could hold her heart steady.
What hurt most wasn’t the past. It was the future she’d let herself imagine—walks by the harbor, quiet dinners, belonging. A life built on honesty.
What would you do if you discovered Brynn was cheating on Callum?
Her mother’s example circled in her head. Callum was her friend. They’d been friends since they were kids. But she and Brynn were closer. Would she have gone to Callum and told him? Or would she have spoken with Brynn and encouraged her to come clean?
Zoe’s eyes burned, and she squeezed them shut.
She couldn’t think. Not now.
The future she’d imagined with John had shattered, and right now she couldn’t see how to put the pieces back together.