It was Vega, the girl next door I’d grown up with. She didn’t say anything else and neither did I.
Eventually, she broke the ice and asked quietly, “Cyrus, do you regret choosing Luna?” She hesitated, then added, “If you ever change your mind, there’s always a place beside me.”
Five years ago, the tabloids had caught a photo of me in a scandal. The woman in the picture?
She was the same Vega Crawford.
I remember Luna kept demanding answers from me back then.
“Why did it have to be Vega?” She said it like it would’ve been fine if it were anyone else. As if it wasn’t the betrayal, just who I’d done it with.
I couldn't even say a thing. So, I ignored Vega and left her car without a word. After everything blew up back then, Vega left the country.
I couldn’t reach her no matter how hard I tried. Hundreds of unread emails sat unanswered—each one another crack in the foundation of my marriage, my life.
If my father and brother had been the chains holding me down, then Vega was the final match that burned everything to the ground.
I didn’t want any of them anymore.
The police station was packed. Everyone was busy with their own thing, face mostly darkened like the clouds before rain in the sky.