Chapter 205
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VENUS
When the door slammed, I barely knew what I was doing. My hand found the lock and turned it before I even realized I’d moved. The quiet that followed was absolute-thick, suffocating, and heavy with the sound of my own heartbeat.
I pressed my back against the door and slid down until I was sitting on the carpet. My chest hurt, the kind of ache that isn’t sharp but deep, spreading slowly through the ribs until it feels like breathing itself has become a burden.
Everything inside me trembled. Not from anger-though maybe that was part of it-but from disbelief.
I had told myself I was ready to hear the truth, whatever it was. But I hadn’t expected silence to hurt this much. His silence.
I’d seen it in his eyes-confusion, guilt, fear-but not deceit. That should have comforted me. Instead, it terrified me. Because if he wasn’t lying, then what kind of truth was he living in?
I covered my face with my hands. The air smelled faintly of the cedar polish from the shelves and the old paper scent of forgotten books. I hadn’t been in this room for years; it was more storage than space for reading now. Dust covered the edges of the furniture, and the curtains were half-drawn.
Somewhere on the other side of the door, I heard footsteps. Voices-distant and cautious. Then quiet again.
I didn’t cry at first. My mind was too full, spinning in circles around the same impossible thought: He doesn’t remember.
How does someone forget a whole night?
I tried to piece it together like it was my own story. The pictures online, the headlines, the strangers talking about my marriage as though it were entertainment. The questions from the that all said the same thing in different ways-Are you okay?
press, the
messages from friends
But nothing prepared me for seeing his face this morning. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, like the ground had disappeared beneath him.
And yet… when I asked him if he’d been unfaithful, he couldn’t tell me no.
That was the part that shattered me. Not what the world said, not the pictures, but that pause. That helpless, terrible pause.
I don’t know how long I sat there before the knock came. It was gentle, almost hesitant.
“Venus?” Sabine’s voice.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My throat was tight, and part of me wanted her to go away. To leave me in this strange silence where at least I didn’t have to pretend I was composed.
Another knock. “Sweetheart, it’s me. Can I come in p>
Still nothing from me.
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Then softer: “Please, Venus. Just open the door p>
I stood, wiped my face with my sleeve, and turned the lock.
When the door opened, Sabine took one look at me and stepped inside without a word, Colton stood in the hallway behind her. He gave a small nod and turned away, closing the space to give us privacy.
Sabine closed the door behind her and crossed the room slowly, her expression full of quiet concern.
“Oh, my dear,” she said, reaching out. I didn’t resist when she pulled me into her arms. The moment her hands came around me, the tears I’d been holding back broke free.
I cried the way a dam breaks-suddenly and without grace. The sound that came out of me was small and raw, like something I’d been holding for too long. Sabine just held me, steady and still, one hand stroking my back in slow, patient circles.
When I could breathe again, she guided me toward one of the old chairs by the window. We sat together, the quiet filled only by the sound of the house settling around us.
She waited until my breathing slowed before she spoke. “Tell me what happened p>
I hesitated, picking at the edge of my sleeve. “We talked. Or tried to. I asked him what happened that night p>
Sabine nodded for me to continue.
“He said he doesn’t remember,” I said quietly. “He swore he doesn’t know who the woman is, that he’s never seen her before. But when I asked if he slept with her…” My voice faltered. “He didn’t say no p>
Sabine’s brow furrowed, her mouth tightening slightly. “He didn’t deny it p>
“No. He said he couldn’t answer because he didn’t know p>
She leaned back in her chair, thinking. For a long time, she didn’t speak, and I could almost hear her trying to balance what she knew of her brother with what she’d just heard.
Finally, she said, “Venus… something about this doesn’t add up p>
I looked up at her, startled.
“I’m not saying that because he’s my brother,” she went on. “You know me better than that. If he’d done something like this, I wouldn’t make excuses for him. But Aaron-he’s careful. Almost to a fault. He doesn’t lose control like this. And for him not to remember at all? That’s not normal. Something’s wrong here p>
I wanted to believe her. I really did.
“I don’t want to think the worst of him,” I whispered. “But the facts p>
“-aren’t facts yet,” she said gently, cutting in. “Right now, they’re just stories with pictures attached. People will always build their own versions of what they think happened. But until we know the truth, none of it means anything p>
I looked down at my hands. “I know that. But I’m still flesh and blood, Sabine. I’m still his wife. And seeing those things, hearing those things-it hurts. It hurts so much I don’t even know what to do with it p>
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Sabine reached out and took my hand in hers. “You don’t have to know what to do with it right now. You just have to feel it. You have every right to be hurt, and no one gets to tell you otherwise p>
That simple permission-those few words-were enough to make my throat tighten again. I squeezed her hand, grateful.
“I trusted him,” I said, the words trembling. “At least, I thought I did. And now I don’t know what to believe. I keep telling myself I know who he is, that he’s not capable of what they’re saying, but then I see those headlines, and it’s like the whole world is daring me to be a fool p>
Sabine nodded slowly. “Trust doesn’t mean pretending something didn’t happen. It means holding on to what you know about someone even when everything else tries to convince you otherwise. If there’s anyone who deserves that from you, it’s Aaron p>
I wiped my eyes again. “You think someone set him up p>
“I don’t just think it,” she said, her voice firm now. “I believe it. There’s too much about this that doesn’t make sense. The timing, the pictures, the memory loss-it feels orchestrated. And if that’s true, then whoever did this wanted more than scandal. They wanted to destroy something real p>
The words sank deep. I looked at her, really looked, and saw in her eyes not just belief but determination. It steadied something inside me. 1
For a long time, we sat without speaking. The storm outside had begun to fade, leaving the faint hiss of wind against the windows. Somewhere far off, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall-Connor, maybe, keeping the world at bay for a while.
“I don’t know how to move forward,” I said finally. “I feel like if I take one more step, everything might fall apart p>
“You start small,” Sabine said. “You breathe. You let yourself feel everything, and then you decide what comes next. Don’t let fear decide it for you p>
I nodded, quiet. My eyes drifted to the door, to the faint light slipping through the gap at the bottom. Somewhere beyond it, Aaron was sitting alone, probably breaking in his own way.
I wanted to be angry at him. I wanted to tell myself he deserved the silence I’d given him. But when I pictured his face-the hollow confusion, the way his voice had cracked when he tried to speak-the anger didn’t hold. All
that was left was sadness.
“He looked so lost,” I murmured. “Like he was as scared as I am p>
Sabine’s voice softened. “Then maybe that’s where you start. With the part of you that still sees him p>
I let the thought settle. It wasn’t forgiveness, not yet. But it was something-an anchor in the chaos.
Sabine stood and brushed her palms together. “Whatever this is, we’ll find out. And when we do, you’ll know whether your faith was misplaced or not. But until then, don’t let the world decide your story p>
I nodded again, and this time the motion felt steadier.
When she reached the door, she paused, looking back at me. “Do you want me to stay p>
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I shook my head. “No. Thank you. I just need a little time p>
She gave a small smile, the kind that carried both understanding and quiet strength. “You’ll have it. And Venus -whatever happens, you’re not alone p>
When the door closed behind her, the silence returned-but it was different now. Not empty, not suffocating Just quiet.
I sat there, staring at the window where the light from the hallway caught the dust in the air.
I thought of everything we’d built-every late night, every fight, every fragile piece of trust that had carried us through before. None of it had been easy. None of it had been perfect. But it had been real.
And I wasn’t ready to throw that away because of a blank space in his memory and a world eager to fill it with lies.
Whatever this was, whoever had done it, I would find out. We would.
I took a long, steady breath.
And in that quiet, I made my decision.
I would trust him.
I would stand by him.
And together, we would unravel the truth-no matter how deep it went.
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Ruby Walker
Ruby Walker is a rising voice in the world of romance and spicy fiction. With a gift for weaving deep emotions, sizzling chemistry, and unexpected twists, her stories are a blend of passion and drama that captivate readers from start to finish. Ruby’s writing style is bold and irresistible—perfect for those who crave intense, addictive love stories.