Chapter 18
Allen
The silence in the house wasn’t just silence—it was judgment. It echoed through the walls like a verdict I already knew I couldn’t overturn.
The moment we stepped inside, Natasha stormed past me without a word. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her body, her head bowed like she was trying to disappear into herself. She lingered by the window, her breath fogging the glass as she stared into the night. Her shoulders rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, and though she was only feet away, she felt miles apart.
It had been hours since everything exploded at Corinne’s. Since Noah stormed off with that look on his face like Natasha had betrayed the universe. Since my parents looked at me like I was unrecognizable. Hours since Corinne’s voice—shaking, heartbroken—called me a stranger.
And Natasha hadn't said a word since.
I yanked off my tie and tossed it onto the couch like it burned me, running a hand through my hair, pacing like a man unraveling at the seams. I watched her from the corner of my eye—watched the way she trembled but never turned around. The silence felt intentional, like she was punishing me by pretending I wasn’t even here.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Are you going to tell me what the hell that was?” My voice cracked through the quiet, sharp and sudden.
She didn’t flinch. Just stood there. Still.
“I said talk to me, Natasha!”
She turned her head slightly but didn’t look at me. “Not tonight, Allen. Please.”
I laughed bitterly. “No. You don’t get to shut down and pretend this didn’t happen. You’ve been crying since we left. You looked like you were going to fall apart every time Noah so much as breathed. And don’t even try to tell me this is just about Corinne.”
She finally turned, and the look in her eyes nearly knocked the air out of me. Red. Swollen. Haunted.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” I said, my voice low now, jagged. “Noah. That’s why you kept staring at him like he was the sun you hadn’t seen in years. That’s why your hands were shaking the moment he walked in.”
Her lips trembled. “Allen—”
“Don’t lie to me.”
She closed her eyes, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn’t say it.
Then her mouth opened and one word fell out.
“Yes.”
It landed like a gunshot. A cold, brutal confirmation of everything I’d refused to admit to myself.
I staggered back a step. “What?”
She didn’t answer at first. Just wiped at her face with trembling fingers before speaking again. “I was in love with Noah before any of this started. Before you.”
The room spun.
She looked down, ashamed. “He was Corinne’s. He always saw me as her friend. The quiet, overlooked shadow in the corner. But I loved him anyway. And when he got engaged, it broke me.”
My hands balled into fists. “So I was what? The runner-up prize? Something to distract you from not being enough for him?”
She shook her head violently. “No, Allen. No. You made me feel seen. Wanted. I clung to that. I needed it. I convinced myself it was love, that it could be enough—but I was lying. To you, to myself. To everyone.”
I laughed, but it sounded like something dying. “So what we had meant nothing?”
Her eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare twist this. What we had was real—but it was wrong. You were married. I was grieving something I never had the right to want. We built this on guilt and desperation. That was never going to last.”
My voice cracked. “I left my wife. I destroyed my family. I chose you.”
Tears spilled down her face again, but she didn’t move. “I never asked you to leave Corinne. That was your decision. I never wanted to be someone’s second act. I thought I could pretend it didn’t matter... but tonight? Watching Noah look at me like I was dirt? Watching Corinne fall apart? I realized—I can’t live like this.”
I stepped closer. “So that’s it? You’re just... done?”
She looked up at me, and for the first time, I saw not just regret—but resolve.
“I’m tired, Allen. Tired of pretending this isn’t killing me. Tired of drowning in a lie we both fed ourselves. I don’t love you the way you love me. And I never will.”
The words crushed something inside me.
“But we’ve been through so much,” I choked out.
She nodded, tears slipping silently. “And it’s time we admit it wasn’t love. It was loneliness dressed up in pretty lies.”
I stared at her, trying to see the woman I gave everything up for, but all I saw now was the truth I had ignored for too long.
She walked toward the stairs slowly, pausing only once. “I’ll pack in the morning. I just... need space tonight.”
I didn’t move. Couldn’t. My legs were rooted in the floor like stone.
“Natasha...” My voice was barely a whisper.
She didn’t turn back. “Goodnight, Allen.”
And just like that, she disappeared up the stairs, leaving me in a house that suddenly felt like a coffin.
I sank onto the couch, the echo of her footsteps still in my ears, and buried my face in my hands.
I had burned my world to the ground for her.
And now, she was gone.