The boy I've loved for years betrayed me; he got my stepsister pregnant and then married her.

"I swear, Rose—we did nothing."

But my father's voice cut deeper: "Are you sure, Elliot, or were you too drunk to remember? Virginia said she woke up and both of you were na.ked."

I looked at the boy who had been my whole world since high school. "Then how could she claim she is pregnant?"

"I do not know. But the baby is definitely not mine."

"They need to get married."

The room exploded. His father shouted. My father decided. And Virginia sat crying with her secret growing inside her.

Later, Virginia told me all of that while crying and begging for forgiveness.

On her wedding day.

What hurt the most was the one detail she confessed between sobs.

Elliot knew exactly who he was with.

He had even called her name while they were together.

I didn't stay for the vows.

Every step burned.

He had known.

He'd known it was her. Not me.

He called her name.

That wasn't a mistake. That was choice.

He chose her.

____________

The Beginning of the Ending

Rosalie & Elliot

Our laughter drifted across the mountains, echoing through the tall trees that lined the quiet valley. The sudden sound startled a flock of birds, sending them scattering into the pale blue sky. Before us, the lake shimmered beneath the morning light, its glassy surface so still it looked like a painting untouched by time.

In that moment, the world felt impossibly beautiful.

The cold water wrapped around us as Elliot pulled me closer, our carefree splashes breaking the perfect stillness of the lake. Hidden by the mountains and forest, it felt as if we had discovered a secret corner of the world that belonged only to us.

We had been inseparable since high school, two young hearts that had grown together long before we truly understood what love meant. The only time we were apart was during college, when life briefly pulled us in different directions. But once we graduated, we found our way back to each other as if it had always been inevitable.

Our families had known each other for years. They had watched our relationship grow and knew how serious we were. Elliot and I often talked about the future-about a home, a life together, and sometimes even the children we imagined running through it.

The night before, we had stayed in a small cabin near the lake. We lay outside beneath the open sky, watching the stars until sleep quietly claimed us.

It felt like the beginning of everything we had ever dreamed of.

But sometimes the most beautiful moments in life arrive just before everything begins to fall apart.

And that morning, standing in the shimmering water with Elliot's arms around me, I had no idea that our forever was already beginning to end.

Until we received an urgent message from our family asking us to return home immediately. The tone sounded serious, but neither of us had any idea what had happened. We packed our things quickly and drove back earlier than planned, heading straight to my family's house.

When we arrived, several cars were already parked along the porch. One of them belonged to Elliot's father. A quiet unease settled in my chest the moment I saw it. Something was wrong. I had felt it the moment the message came. Elliot, however, remained optimistic. He even joked that perhaps our families had planned a surprise for us.

But the moment we stepped inside the house hand in hand, I felt it immediately. The atmosphere was heavy and tense. From somewhere in the room came the soft, uneven sound of someone crying.

A sudden thought struck me.

Did someone die?

Grandmother?

No. That could not be possible. She had been perfectly healthy the last time I saw her.

Elliot must have sensed my growing anxiety because he squeezed my hand gently in reassurance as we walked further inside.

The moment we entered the living room, we both stopped.

Everyone was there.

My father stood near the centre of the room. My stepmother was seated beside him, holding my stepsister Virginia who was quietly crying against her shoulder. My grandmother was there too, seated upright with her usual composed posture. Relief washed over me when I saw her looking healthy as always. She was a woman who rarely showed emotion except to her favourite granddaughter, which was me. But today there was no warmth in her expression.

On the other side of the room sat Elliot's parents. His older brother and his pregnant wife were seated nearby.

Every pair of eyes was fixed on us.

"Why is everyone here? Did something happen?" Elliot asked, looking toward his father.

His father slowly stood.

"Why don't both of you sit down. There is something we need to confirm."

Elliot hesitated. His eyes drifted toward Virginia. They held each other's gaze for a few seconds in a way that felt strangely uncomfortable. I told myself I must have imagined it, yet Elliot's expression grew tense.

We walked to the empty couch and sat down together.

My father's eyes immediately fell on our clasped hands.

He did not look pleased.

Since when?

"Tell me, son. Two months ago at a college party, Virginia visited you and the two of you went there together. Is that correct?"

I froze at the question Elliot's father suddenly asked. My head turned sharply toward Elliot, searching his face for confirmation. Why had I never heard about this before? Neither Elliot nor Virginia, my stepsister who was two years younger than me, had ever mentioned it.

"She did visit," Elliot replied quickly. "But we did not go to the party together. She went alone and I had to pick her up because she was drunk."

"What? You never told me about this," I interrupted.

Elliot looked at me, trying to reassure me, but I had already pulled my hand away from his. Something about the way he spoke made my stomach tighten. He looked nervous.

"Virginia suddenly showed up and said it was a coincidence that she was in the same city. She asked me to go out with her but I was busy studying at the time."

"But when you went to pick her up, you stayed with her at the party. What happened after that?" his father asked.

This time I could clearly see Elliot becoming more anxious. His eyes kept shifting toward Virginia, who was seated across from him with tears running down her face.

"Nothing happened," Elliot said firmly. "I brought her back to my dorm because we were both drunk and she had nowhere to stay."

My breath caught at his words. My heart pounded loudly in my chest. I had no idea where this questioning was leading, but fear was already creeping into my mind. The possibilities forming in my head were terrifying.

"If nothing happened," Elliot's father said slowly, "then why is she claiming she is pregnant and that the only person who ever slept with her was you?"

"What?" Elliot shot up from the couch.

His eyes snapped toward Virginia. She began crying harder, burying her face against my stepmother's shoulder.

"That cannot be true," Elliot said, his voice rising. "Nothing happened, okay? Yes, we ended up sleeping on the same bed because we were drunk and there was only one bed. But I woke up with my clothes on. I would know if something had happened between us that night"

"Are you sure, Elliot, or were you too drunk to remember?" my father asked as he stood beside Elliot's father. "Virginia said she woke up and both of you were na.ked. So who is telling the truth?"

"That is not true," Elliot shouted. "Virginia, why are you not telling them the truth? We woke up and agreed it was not a big deal because nothing happened."

Then he looked at me. My face must have been completely pale.

"I swear, Rose, we did nothing. I did not tell you because I thought it did not matter. I treated her like a sister. She asked for help and I helped her. That is all."

"Then how could she claim she is pregnant?" I asked quietly, tears already burning in my eyes.

"I do not know, okay? But the baby is definitely not mine."

"She said she was still a virgin before that night," my father continued. "She admitted both of you were drunk but believes something happened. She said you woke up but could not remember, so she let it go until she discovered she was pregnant."

"It cannot be..." Elliot whispered, completely lost. He sank back onto the couch and buried his face in his hands.

"Arguing and denying will not solve anything," my father said firmly. "My daughter should not carry this burden alone."

"That is true," Elliot's father added heavily. "You must take responsibility for what you have done. I am sorry, Rosalie, that you have to hear this from me. But my son has wronged your sister and he must face the consequences. They need to get married."

"The he-ll I will."

The room exploded into chaos.

Elliot jumped to his feet in rage while his father shouted at him to control himself. My father tried to calm everyone down. My grandmother looked at me with sadness in her eyes and slowly shook her head.

And me...

I stood up.

My body moved like a lifeless she-ll as I tried to walk away from the battlefield unfolding around me. But suddenly my legs felt unbearably heavy. My vision blurred and dark spots began to fill my sight.

The world spun.

Then everything went black.

The last thing I heard was someone calling my name.

Ten years.

That was how long I stayed away from the place where I grew up. Ten years of avoiding the town that once held all my childhood dreams. Ten years of staying away from the people who knew me before everything fell apart.

Maybe leaving had been childish. Maybe I had been selfish for abandoning my family and running from the past instead of facing it. Everyone else had moved on with their lives. I told myself I had too.

But the wound never truly healed.

And now that I was back, I could only hope it would not reopen.

I dragged my luggage across the airport lobby, my eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face. He insisted he would pick me up even though I had reassured him several times that I could easily take an Uber straight to the hospital.

Why did I ever come back?

Because my grandmother was dying.

She had been hospitalized several times over the past year, but this time the doctors were not hopeful. Her health had been deteriorating for years. According to them, she might not even make it to the end of the month.

She was almost eighty.

My grandmother and I had always been close. Even after I left town, I kept in touch with her. I called whenever I could, telling her about my life, the cities I traveled to, the places I tried to call home. I was always searching for somewhere to settle, but nothing ever lasted.

In the past ten years, I did return a few times to see her. But I made sure to avoid everyone else, especially the man who broke my heart and the stepsister who betrayed me.

Elliot and Virginia.

The two people I never wanted to see again.

No matter how they tried to explain it, betrayal was still betrayal.

Elliot claimed he had been drunk. Virginia tearfully insisted it happened in a moment of reckless passion. According to her, they simply lost control and ended up in bed together.

She told me all of that while crying and begging for forgiveness.

On her wedding day.

What hurt the most was the one detail she confessed between sobs.

Elliot knew exactly who he was with.

He had even called her name while they were together.

After witnessing their wedding, a ceremony that was far from joyful for anyone in the room, I packed my bags and left town that very same day.

They were still exchanging their vows when I walked out.

For richer or poorer. Until death do us part.

I could barely hear the rest of it.

Because every word sounded like a lie.

"Rosie Posie... da.mn, you're looking good."

Someone called out from behind me while I was still scanning the crowd.

I turned and there he was.

My cousin James.

He looked as handsome as ever, the kind of man who made women turn their heads whenever he walked past. He had always had that effortless charm. He was also my best friend, one of the few people I had tried to stay away from after leaving town.

But James had never been good at letting people go.

He kept calling, sending messages, and flooding my social media with direct messages about how hurt he was when I left without a word. Eventually, I gave in. Slowly, we rebuilt our friendship.

"James." I laughed softly. "You're looking handsome yourself. How many hearts have you broken these past few years?"

"Not enough, I guess," he replied with a grin. "Women keep chasing me. Not my fault. But now that you're here, you could help."

"Help with what?"

"You could pretend to be my girlfriend. It would save me a lot of trouble."

"In your dreams, Romeo."

"A guy has to try. I've missed those teddy bear hugs."

I smiled and walked toward him.

The moment I reached him, I wrapped my arms around him. James hugged me back just as tightly before lifting me off the ground. He even spun me slightly, laughing.

For a moment, we must have looked like two lovers reunited after years apart.

"I missed you, James," I said when he finally set me down. "Thanks for picking me up."

"It was nothing, Rosie," he said gently. "Now that you're here, it's time to come home. Let's get going. Your grandmother has been eager to see you."

James grabbed my luggage, and we walked side by side toward the exit, his arm resting comfortably around my shoulders.

A knot formed in my chest.

"I'm afraid to see her," I admitted quietly. "I don't think I can bear looking at her and knowing she may not have much time left."

James gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Your grandmother is the strongest woman I know. Even knowing death may come soon, she refuses to break." He paused before adding softly, "But she's been waiting for you, Rosie. That's all she wants before anything else."

James drove me straight to the hospital.

It was still early in the morning, which gave me time to prepare myself mentally before facing the rest of my family later. I would be staying at the family house, a place filled with memories I had tried to forget.

And people I never wanted to see again.

My stepsister Virginia lived there with her daughter, the child she shared with Elliot. From what James told me, they had been divorced for two years and shared custody of their only daughter.

I supposed that, despite Elliot being forced to marry Virginia, they must have had a real marriage at some point. Otherwise, they would not have chosen to raise a child together and their marriage did last in a few years.

He had moved on.

And so had I.

Or at least that was what I kept telling myself.

Since learning about their divorce, had it ever crossed my mind that I might have a second chance with him?

Definitely not.

That chapter of my life had been closed a long time ago, even if the feelings I once had for him had never completely disappeared.

Elliot was no longer the man I thought he was.

And after being married to my stepsister and having a child with her, any possibility between us was impossible.

A firm no.

When we reached my grandmother's private room, I took a deep breath before stepping inside. James stayed close beside me, his quiet presence giving me strength.

"Oh... she's sleeping," I whispered when we approached the bed.

She looked peaceful, as if nothing was wrong at all. But her body was thin and fragile.

My grandmother had always been my anchor, especially after my mother passed away.

Six months after my mother died, my father married her old college friend, Anita. I was thirteen then.

Anita appeared in our lives unexpectedly when she found out my mother had been battling cancer for months. She offered to help care for her, explaining that she had experience as a caregiver.

She moved into our house and brought her eleven year old daughter with her.

Virginia.

I never truly understood how my father ended up marrying Anita after my mother passed away a few months later. According to my grandmother, it had been my mother's wish.

Anita had no family, and my father needed someone to help take care of me.

But I was only thirteen. I had just lost my mother, and suddenly a new woman and her daughter were living in our home.

Of course it took time to accept them.

Even now, my relationship with Anita had never been close. I kept my distance, and she respected that. But she had never shown much warmth toward me either.

"How long have you been sitting there without waking me up? I've been waiting for days."

Her voice startled me.

I had no idea she was already awake.

I had been sitting beside her bed for nearly an hour, and James had quietly slipped out of the room sometime earlier.

"Not long," I said softly. "I wasn't going anywhere until you woke up, so you didn't have to worry."

She studied my face.

"Don't look so sad. I'm not dead yet," she said with a faint smile. "And I have no regrets. I've lived a good life. I watched my children grow up and become successful. I saw my grandchildren grow into fine adults."

She reached for my hand.

"My time is simply coming, and I have already accepted that."

She must have noticed the sadness I was trying so hard to hide behind my smile.

"I should have stayed," I whispered. "I should have been here with you. I'm sorry, Grandma. I was selfish."

"Don't say that," she said firmly. "You did what you needed to do. If leaving helped you live and heal, then it was the right thing."

Her eyes softened as she looked at me.

"Staying would only have made you miserable."

She squeezed my hand gently.

"And let me tell you something, sweetheart. You were not the only one who suffered. The people who hurt you paid their own price. Maybe even worse."

That was my grandmother.

Always standing by my side.

My protector.

My anchor.

Sometimes I felt as if she had been my guardian angel all along.

Because even my own father had never stood up for me the way she did.