"Please," Selena whispered, voice cracking. "I didn't know where else to go."
Tenaya didn't ask any questions. She pulled her friend into a tight embrace, shielding her from the cold wind behind her. "You're safe now," she murmured, guiding her inside. "You're home."
Tenaya had always been the dependable one-the strong one. When Selena's marriage crumbled after years of emotional manipulation and silent suffering, it wasn't even a question. Of course, she would take her in. Of course, she would make space.
They had been inseparable since university-more like sisters than friends. Tenaya had been the one to help Selena plan her wedding. The one who paid for her hospital bills when she had a miscarriage. The one who defended her when her own family turned their backs.
And now, Selena was in pieces.
Tenaya prepared the guest room herself, laying out fresh sheets and towels, lighting lavender candles the way Selena liked. They spent that first night in the living room, talking under dim lights, tears slipping down Selena's cheeks as she talked about the affair her husband had with his assistant, about how his mother told her to leave without dignity. About how she had no job, no money, no future.
"I feel worthless," Selena whispered.
"You're not," Tenaya said firmly. "You just forgot who you are. I'll remind you."
And for weeks, she did.
Tenaya bought Selena new clothes, updated her resume, connected her with contacts who might offer her a job. She brought her into the social events she once avoided-dinners with clients, art galas, business brunches. Selena had always been magnetic, and with Tenaya's support, she began to smile again. Laugh again.
Rael noticed, too.
At first, it was subtle. A compliment here. A too-long glance there. Tenaya didn't think much of it-Rael was charming with everyone, it was part of his nature. She trusted him. They had been married for six years, had weathered every storm imaginable. He had stood by her side when her father died, when her company almost collapsed. He had promised her loyalty when she was at her lowest.
So she didn't question it when she caught them talking in the kitchen late at night. Or when Selena started wearing lipstick again.
She didn't ask why Rael suddenly became more distant in their bedroom.
Instead, she blamed herself.
Maybe she had been too busy. Maybe she'd grown cold. Maybe Rael needed space, and maybe Selena needed healing, and maybe-just maybe-Tenaya was imagining things.
Then one evening, everything shattered.
Tenaya came home earlier than expected from a dinner meeting, having left her phone in the car. She stepped into the dark apartment and heard laughter-soft, intimate, coming from the guest room. Her heart skipped.
She walked quietly toward the slightly open door.
And there, illuminated in the soft glow of a bedside lamp, was Rael, shirtless, lying beside Selena, who was curled into his side, her head resting on his chest like she belonged there.
Tenaya didn't move.
She didn't speak.
She stood frozen in the hallway, staring at the scene in front of her, waiting-hoping-it would disappear if she just blinked hard enough. But it didn't. Rael turned his head and saw her. His eyes widened in slow, dawning horror-but not guilt. Just shock. As if he hadn't expected to get caught so soon.
Selena didn't flinch. She didn't even pull away. She just stared back, lips parted, like she had run out of excuses.
"Tenaya-" Rael began, sitting up.
But she raised her hand, silencing him.
She walked away.
She didn't scream. She didn't throw things. She didn't cry. She went to her bedroom, locked the door, and stood there in silence. Her chest felt hollow. Her hands trembled.
The betrayal was so sharp it didn't even bleed at first. It just sat there, a blade embedded in bone.
She didn't sleep that night. She stared at the ceiling, reliving every moment she had defended them-every time she had loved too hard, too blindly.
By morning, she knew one thing:
They didn't deserve her rage yet. Not until she understood how deep the betrayal went.
When she called Rael's mother later that day, pretending to be confused and broken, the truth came fast. Too fast.
"She loves him," the woman said. "They've been happier since they stopped pretending. You're strong, Tenaya. You'll find someone else."
It wasn't just an affair.
It was a decision.
It was supported. Encouraged. By the very people who had eaten at her table, lived off her generosity, and smiled while stabbing her in the back.
Tenaya stood in front of the mirror, staring at the reflection of a woman she barely recognized-one who had loved too selflessly, given too freely, and been destroyed for it.
She didn't cry.
She smiled.
And that was the first moment they should have been afraid.
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