Page 23 of Unfaithful

"Sara is spending the night here, Mom. The guest room is ready, right?"

"Yes!" Mom said with enthusiasm, then hesitated as if something had just occurred to her. "Let me double-check, okay? Give me a minute."

Once Mom was gone, I turned to Sara. "Are you feeling better now?"

Considering the circumstances, it was a stupid question, but I worried too much not to ask.

"Yes," she answered too quickly. My gaze locked onto hers. I could always tell what she was feeling from her eyes.

She lied, but I didn't press her. She was not okay.

"You're staring," she said.

"Yeah. Sorry." I mumbled and looked away.

"I'm fine, really," she said, looking up at me with those big, beautiful, watery eyes, and my heart pounded a little faster like it did every time she looked at me. "You don't need to worry about me."

"Okay," I replied. I was lying, too. I was so fucking worried.

But I knew I shouldn't be so worried about her. Sara wasn't like most people. When life screwed her over, she allowed herself a moment of vulnerability just long enough to let it out of her system. Then she meticulously pieced herself back together, not just to heal but to prove a fucking point. To show the world and those who had let her down that she could rise above anything life threw her way.

I had seen it in her once before, and I knew I would see it again.

She had a rare, unshakable determination to survive, even when the odds were against her. But despite everything, she never lost her softness, her kindness, her sensitivity. They remained untouched as if the world had tried to break her and failed.

Sara was a work of art. A beautiful contradiction, a clash of fire and fragility. She carried her scars like poetry and her strength like armor.

And Cole, the idiot, chose that whore over this woman.

Fucking stupid.

He fucked up. Big time. I wasn't sure if there was redemption for a betrayal this massive.

And now, she's here with me, in my home.

I had to keep myself in check, had to remind myself, over and over, not to cross the line. I wouldn't do that to her. I wouldn't take advantage.

I had accepted long ago that she had never seen me that way.

"You keep staring at me, Archie!" she protested with a frown.

See? She wasn't even comfortable with me looking at her.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"I promise, I'm fine." She misunderstood. Again.

I just nodded and turned my focus to my plate.

We sat in comfortable silence for a while; each lost in our own thoughts until Mom shuffled back into the room.

"The room is ready," she said to Sara. "Come, I'll take you there."

Before Sara could move, Dad hurried in from the front door, his expression tense.

"Cole is out there, looking for Sara," he announced, clearly baffled. "He's demanding we bring his wife out. What the hell happened, Archie? Why is he looking for her here? And why won't he come inside? This is practically his home, too."

Then his eyes landed on Sara, who was half-hidden behind me. And just like Mom, Dad was sharp. He noticed right away that something was off.

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