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I could hear the faint sound of the dinner preparation. The clinking of utensils. The sizzling of food.
But the anticipation of the dinner was a distant memory. The joy and excitement of earlier felt like a distant dream.
Everything felt surreal, as if I was trapped in a nightmare I was unable to wake up from.
I never imagined Max could harbor such malice. The man I’d grown to care for, the man who had tenderly held my hand while we laughed and shared our dreams was plotting against me all along.
I laid out the pages of the unsigned document on the table. I’d been played for a fool in a cruel game I didn’t even know I was part of.
Still holding the signed document, I stared up at the framed photograph of Max’s father on the wall. I’d heard stories of his ruthlessness. But his son had been different. Yet, what I held in my hands made me wonder if Max was following in his father’s footsteps. If he’d become the very shadow he once sought to escape.
Then the sound of hurried footsteps snapped me back to reality. They halted just outside the door.
I tried to compose myself and mask the pain inside. But it was a futile effort. How could I face Max now, knowing that the man I was falling for had been planning to snatch everything I held dear?
I gripped the document tighter, feeling the sharp edges of the paper bite into my skin. Compared to the ache in my heart, the pain was little.
The doorknob turned. The door swung open. A sharp sting of sadness pierced me.
I didn’t need to look up to know it was Max. The rhythm of his footsteps had been the same since childhood when I memorized it to learn when he was coming closer during our hide-and-seek games.
The silence between us stretched. There was a huge emotional chasm he’d created, and it was steadily growing wider.
“Anna?” he called.
No, I wouldn’t listen to that gruff voice that increased my heart rate. I stiffened, not wanting Max to know the effect he still had on me. There was only one logical thing to do. Confront him.
I steeled myself preparing to demand answers for the deception that had shattered my trust.
But even as I braced for the confrontation, a part of me mourned the loss of the connection we had been building, the moments of laughter and tenderness that now felt tainted by his hidden agenda.
Fear of what more I might uncover and how much deeper this betrayal was gripped me. Yet, I needed to confront him. To scream. To demand explanations!
I turned slowly. What was that expression on his face? Guilt? Remorse? Concern?
What else he was hiding behind that expression? What other secrets lay beneath the surface of Max Fletcher, the man I thought I knew?
“Anna,” he said in a pleading tone.
Slowly, I lifted my eyes to meet his. The man standing before me was a stranger now, shrouded in deceit and secrets. He was nothing like the charming, caring person I’d thought he was.
The realization that I had fallen for my enemy, the person set on destroying Grandpa’s legacy, was a bitter pill to swallow.
I had so much to say, so many questions. But the words were trapped by the hurt that filled my throat.
Max had betrayed me. He’d tainted our love with lies and shattered my trust into a thousand pieces.
“Max, what is all this?” I said, barely managing to form the words.
He stepped closer, filling me with his scent that now brought pain along with it.
Silent tears of anger welled up in my eyes, spilling onto my cheeks.
“Anna, I can explain,” he said.
But it was too late. This man was a façade. The love I felt was for a man who never truly existed.
A storm of emotions raged within me. Betrayal, sadness, anger—they all blended into a tumultuous whirlwind that threatened to consume me.
