Five Years, A Forged Vow

Audrey POV:

"Audrey, don't be petty," Brandon cut me off, his voice sharp, devoid of any warmth. "I know you're not the type to get jealous over something so trivial. Kristal is staying with us tonight."

My jaw dropped. Stay with us? In our home? The home I had painstakingly designed, filled with memories of us, of a life I thought we were building together? My blood ran cold.

"She needs a place to clean up, her clothes are ruined from the rain," he explained, as if that justified everything.

I remembered his mother's strict rules. "No overnight guests, Audrey," she had always insisted. "Especially not in the master suite. It's bad luck, and it's disrespectful to the sanctity of marriage." Brandon had upheld those rules religiously, even when my own sister had visited. But for Kristal, all rules were apparently suspended. His mother's rules, my comfort, our perceived sanctity – none of it mattered.

He had always been so careful about appearances, so insistent on boundaries. But with Kristal, those boundaries dissolved into thin air. He was a different man around her, a man I barely recognized, a man I now deeply resented.

Kristal, who had somehow reappeared at his side, looked at me with feigned innocence, her head tilted slightly. "Unless… unless you're afraid, Audrey?" Her eyes held a challenge, a subtle taunt.

"No," I said, my voice flat, devoid of emotion. "I'm not afraid. But Kristal can stay in a hotel. I can call one for her, there are plenty of five-star resorts nearby." My voice was calm, almost detached. I was trying to be reasonable, to find a solution that wouldn't completely shatter the last remnants of my dignity.

Kristal's lower lip trembled. "Oh, I completely forgot to book one," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "And the only ones left are those… dingy motels on the outskirts of town. I don't mind, really. I'm used to roughing it." She gave a brave, teary smile.

Brandon immediately reached for her arm, pulling her closer. "Don't be silly, Kristal," he said, his voice laced with concern. "You're staying with us." He turned to me, his eyes now cold. "What are you so afraid of, Audrey? There's nothing going on between us. What happened with Kristal and me is in the past. It's over."

Past? Over? The words tasted like ash in my mouth. My gaze fell to his collar. A faint, smudged red mark. Lipstick. Kristal's shade. My throat tightened. He had just kissed her. Or she had kissed him. And he had worn it like a trophy.

How did he comfort her? What did he say? Did he tell her she was his one true love? Did he tell her I was just a temporary distraction? My thoughts spiraled, dark and suffocating.

"You're unbelievable!" I screamed, the control I had so carefully maintained finally snapping. My voice cracked, raw with pain and fury. "Your eyes are glued to her, your every action is for her! You left me standing in the pouring rain, alone! And for what? For her twisted ankle? You can't even see past her to notice what's happening around you! And you expect me not to think anything of it?"

I felt like I was unraveling, every nerve screaming. "You ran after her like a lovesick puppy! You handed her the necklace, the one everyone thought was for our anniversary, for our formal reception in three days! You gave her my shoes! You abandoned me! And now you want her to stay in our home? My home?"

I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. "No," I declared, my voice firm despite the tremor in my body. "She is not stepping foot in my house."

Brandon looked at me, his eyes cold, devoid of any recognition. He looked at me like I was a madwoman, a stranger. "Think whatever you want, Audrey," he said, his voice flat, dismissing my pain, my anger, my very existence.

Kristal whimpered again, a soft, pathetic sound, clutching Brandon's arm.

He glanced at her, his expression softening instantly. He gently led her to his car, opening the passenger door. He practically tucked her inside. He didn't even look at me as he got into the driver's seat.

The engine purred to life, and the car pulled away, leaving me standing in the driveway. The rain intensified, soaking me to the bone. Every drop felt like a fresh wound.

I stumbled back, my legs weak, the world tilting precariously. The heavy rain continued to fall, blinding me, chilling me. I was utterly alone, abandoned, soaked, and heartbroken.

A sudden chill, not from the rain, ran down my spine. The rideshare. The sketchy driver. I had forgotten. My phone was dead, a black mirror in my trembling hand. I couldn't call anyone. I was stranded.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a familiar terror rising in my throat. The darkness of the night, the relentless rain, the empty streets. It was exactly like that night, years ago, when I'd been snatched. The memories flooded back, swift and suffocating. The cold sweat, the racing pulse, the desperate plea for safety.

I had to get home. I had to. I started walking, blindly, the rain blurring my vision. My breath hitched in my throat. A pair of headlights cut through the gloom. A car slowed, then stopped beside me. It was the rideshare. The dark windows, the indistinct silhouette of the driver. My stomach dropped. This was it. Every fiber of my being screamed for me to run. But where?