---- Chapter 3 Elaina Higgins POV: Derek thought | was asleep on the couch when he returned hours later, smelling faintly of a woman' s perfume that was definitely not mine. He gently scooped me into his arms and carried me to our bed, his movements practiced and tender. The sheer hypocrisy of it made my skin crawl. He tucked me in, kissed my forehead, and whispered, "Sweet dreams, my love." The dreams that came were anything but sweet. They were a chaotic montage of my father' s smiling face turning cruel, of Derek' s promises shattering like glass, and of Cory Pennington' s laughter echoing in the darkness. | woke up shivering, drenched in a cold sweat. Derek was sleeping beside me, one arm thrown protectively over my waist. His breathing was deep and even. He looked peaceful, innocent. A monster in repose. Gently, | slipped out from under his arm and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. His phone was on the counter where he' d left it. It was a foolish, impulsive act, born of a desperate need for confirmation of what | already knew. My hands trembled as | picked it up. It wasn't password protected. Of course not. He was that arrogant. His text messages with Cory were right at the top. | scrolled, ---- my heart pounding a sick rhythm against my ribs. It was worse than | could have imagined. Explicit photos, crude fantasies, plans for their next tryst. He had been with her tonight, at a hotel just a few blocks away. He had left me, injured and supposedly stressed, to be with her. There was one exchange that made the breath catch in my throat. Cory: Is she really that boring in bed? Derek: Let's just say she' s a classic painting. Beautiful to look at, but you don't really want to touch it. You're a wildfire, baby. And | love getting burned. The phone slipped from my fingers and clattered onto the tile floor. A classic painting. Untouchable. The first time we' d been together, he had been so patient, so reverent. He' d traced the lines of my body with his fingertips and told me | was a masterpiece. "I will spend my life cherishing you, Elaina," he had vowed. Another lie. All of it. | stumbled back against the counter, my legs giving out from under me. The pain in my chest was immense, a physical weight pressing down, making it impossible to breathe. He hadn't just betrayed me; he had desecrated every sacred memory we had shared. He had taken our intimacy and twisted it into a punchline for his mistress. Who was this man? The loving fiancé who held me when | had ---- nightmares? The tech genius praised by magazines? Or the callous stranger who mocked my deepest insecurities to another woman? | couldn't reconcile the two. The man | had loved for a decade was a phantom, an illusion | had desperately wanted to believe in. The sound of the phone hitting the floor must have woken him. Footsteps padded down the hall. "Elaina? Everything okay?" | didn't answer. | couldn't. | was drowning in a sea of his deceit. He appeared in the doorway, his hair tousled from sleep, his eyes full of concern. He saw the phone on the floor, then looked at my face. The color drained from his. For the first time, | saw a flicker of genuine panic in his eyes. "Elaina..." he began, taking a step toward me. "Don't," | whispered, my voice raw. | held up a hand, a feeble shield against the torrent of lies | knew was coming. "Don't you dare touch me." He froze, his expression shifting from panic to a carefully constructed mask of contrition. He knelt, not before me, but to pick up his phone. He was protecting his secrets, not begging for my forgiveness. "Baby, it's not what you think," he said, his voice low and pleading. "She means nothing to me. It was a stupid mistake. ---- | was stressed, the wedding, the pressure..." He was already spinning the narrative, painting himself as the victim. | just stared at him, my heart a dead, heavy thing in my chest. | felt nothing but a vast, empty coldness. "I'm so sorry," he continued, taking another step closer. "I'll end it. Right now. I'll never speak to her again. Please, Elaina. Don't let this ruin us. We have so much to look forward to." He reached for me then, and | flinched away as if his touch were fire. The look of hurt that crossed his face was so convincing it was almost comical. He thought a few pretty words and a sad expression could erase this. He had no idea what he had done. He hadn't just broken a promise. He had shattered the very foundation of my world "I'm going to stay in the guest room," | said, my voice devoid of emotion. "| need some space." | turned and walked away, not waiting for his reply. | could feel his eyes on my back, but | didn't look back. | closed the guest room door behind me and slid to the floor, the silent sobs finally breaking free, shaking my entire body with their force. It wasn't just the end of a relationship; it was the death of a dream. And | was completely, utterly alone in the wreckage.