Page 28 of The Edge Of Us

“It’s him, isn’t it?” I said, my voice low now, jagged. “Noah. That’s why you kept staring at him like he was the sun you hadn’t seen in years. That’s why your hands were shaking the moment he walked in.”

Her lips trembled. “Allen—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

She closed her eyes, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn’t say it.

Then her mouth opened and one word fell out.

“Yes.”

It landed like a gunshot. A cold, brutal confirmation of everything I’d refused to admit to myself.

I staggered back a step. “What?”

She didn’t answer at first. Just wiped at her face with trembling fingers before speaking again. “I was in love with Noah before any of this started. Before you.”

The room spun.

She looked down, ashamed. “He was Corinne’s. He always saw me as her friend. The quiet, overlooked shadow in the corner. But I loved him anyway. And when he got engaged, it broke me.”

My hands balled into fists. “So I was what? The runner-up prize? Something to distract you from not being enough for him?”

She shook her head violently. “No, Allen. No. You made me feel seen. Wanted. I clung to that. I needed it. I convinced myself it was love, that it could be enough—but I was lying. To you, to myself. To everyone.”

I laughed, but it sounded like something dying. “So what we had meant nothing?”

Her eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare twist this. What we had was real—but it was wrong. You were married. I was grieving something I never had the right to want. We built this on guilt and desperation. That was never going to last.”

My voice cracked. “I left my wife. I destroyed my family. I chose you.”

Tears spilled down her face again, but she didn’t move. “I never asked you to leave Corinne. That was your decision. I never wanted to be someone’s second act. I thought I could pretend it didn’t matter... but tonight? Watching Noah look at me like I was dirt? Watching Corinne fall apart? I realized—I can’t live like this.”

I stepped closer. “So that’s it? You’re just... done?”

She looked up at me, and for the first time, I saw not just regret—but resolve.

“I’m tired, Allen. Tired of pretending this isn’t killing me. Tired of drowning in a lie we both fed ourselves. I don’t love you the way you love me. And I never will.”

The words crushed something inside me.

“But we’ve been through so much,” I choked out.

She nodded, tears slipping silently. “And it’s time we admit it wasn’t love. It was loneliness dressed up in pretty lies.”

I stared at her, trying to see the woman I gave everything up for, but all I saw now was the truth I had ignored for too long.

She walked toward the stairs slowly, pausing only once. “I’ll pack in the morning. I just... need space tonight.”

I didn’t move. Couldn’t. My legs were rooted in the floor like stone.

“Natasha...” My voice was barely a whisper.

She didn’t turn back. “Goodnight, Allen.”

And just like that, she disappeared up the stairs, leaving me in a house that suddenly felt like a coffin.

I sank onto the couch, the echo of her footsteps still in my ears, and buried my face in my hands.

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