UNTIL LOVE FOUND US
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rehearsed. "You know how it is, business." "Right," I replied, a tightness forming in my chest. Each word felt more like a wall between us. Another trip-another way to evade the questions lingering in my heart. "I'll be back in a few days," she added quickly, her expression shifting into something harder to read. "But I promise, we'll talk more when I return." "I'll be waiting," I assured her, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "You know I always am." She smiled again, this time with more sincerity, leaning down to kiss my cheek before preparing to leave. But as she turned away, an unexpected wave of unease washed over me. My phone buzzed in my pocket, lighting up with a new notification. The transfer I had just made to Melissa, the twenty million, had been reversed. Confusion set in as I pulled out my phone, a growing sense of dread blooming within me. Before I could process the reversal, another message appeared-a familiar name: Dave. Dave, my best friend, the person I trusted above all else. The message contained a series of files-photos and videos. I hesitated, unease settling deeper in my gut. As I opened the first video, my heart lurched, the world around me fading as the reality of the situation began to unfold. When I opened the first video, I felt a rush of emotions that momentarily took my breath away. It was a recording of Melissa, laughing and leaning comfortably on the shoulder of a man I didn't recognize. They were sitting on a couch, so close that it felt intimate-more intimate than I had ever thought possible for someone who had supposedly been dating me for two years. The second video added a layer of confusion and heartache. This time, the man addressed Melissa directly. "You need to go get the 20 million," he said, his tone calm and collected, almost dismissive. "Once you have it, we can leave. Get the money and tell him it's over, give him cooked reasons why you can't be in his life anymore. We'll leave the city, and we can finally be free." My heart sank. I could barely hear Melissa's response, but it was clear: "Don't worry. He'll give it to me. He always does. He doesn't ask questions." Then came the photos-each one deeper in betrayal. The same man with Melissa at what appeared to be a private ceremony-a wedding. The reality hit me like a cold wave: she had been married for four years. I struggled to grasp the weight of what I was seeing. My trust, my affection for her, felt like sand slipping through my fingers. How could someone I loved so deeply have built a life alongside me while secretly intertwining herself with another? The most painful part was clinging to hope that this was all a misunderstanding, a cruel trick of fate. But the evidence was undeniable, staring back at me in vivid detail. I closed my eyes, taking a moment to collect myself. The conflicting emotions swirled inside me, battling for dominance. Rage settled beneath the surface, but it was mixed with hurt and disbelief. I stood there, feeling time freeze, while the chaotic storm inside me raged on. The urge to scream or to lash out was overwhelming, yet I felt paralyzed, transfixed by the unfolding reality. My hands clenched into fists, the desire to throw my phone against the wall battling with the need to understand. Questions flooded my mind. How long had she been living a lie? How could she do this to me? The warmth of love quickly turned to the chill of betrayal as I processed everything I thought I knew about us. Then, just as my thoughts began to spiral, I heard footsteps. I looked up to see Melissa standing nearby, her expression a mix of confusion and guilt. But there was a depth in her eyes that made me feel uneasy. "The money you transferred... it's no longer in my account," she said softly, her voice trembling. I remained silent, the weight
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