CHAPTER TWO

~Nella~

"Nella..." Sam's voice was shaking, desperate, but it only fueled my anger. "I didn't know you'd be here. This isn't what it looks like."

I could feel the sting of those words, the way they echoed in the room as if they could somehow erase the truth I was witnessing. I couldn't even breathe. The shock had lodged in my chest like a sharp stone, heavy and unmovable.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to speak through the growing lump in my throat. "Not what it looks like?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you kidding me? You—both of you—are lying on this bed, and you expect me to believe this isn't what it looks like?"

Sam stood up quickly, his hands running through his hair, his eyes frantic as he took a step toward me. "Nella, please, just let me explain—"

I held up a hand to stop him. I couldn't hear any more of his lies, any more of his excuses. "Don't," I said coldly, my voice sharp and final. "There's nothing to explain."

Maya stood too, clutching the blanket to her chest like a shield, but still, she didn't seem sorry. Her eyes darted toward Sam, her expression almost expectant, as though this confrontation was just part of the plan.

"How long?"

I asked, my voice trembling with the weight of the question, though my gaze never left Sam's face. I needed him to answer. I deserved an answer. "How long has this been going on?"

Sam faltered, unable to meet my eyes, his hands shaking as if he was still trying to piece together some kind of excuse. Finally, he muttered, "Nella, I... I never meant for this to happen. It just... happened. I didn't want to hurt you."

The words hit me like a slap. It just happened? After all the years, all the love, all the trust we had built between us? That was his explanation? My vision blurred for a moment, the tears threatening to spill, but I held them back. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

I looked at Maya, her face a mix of guilt and arrogance. I was supposed to be friends with her. She had been so polite, so eager to please. I'd even told Sam how much potential I thought she had. Now, I couldn't even look at her without feeling a rush of contempt.

I turned away from her and fixed my gaze on Sam, the man I thought I knew better than anyone. The man who had lied to my face, over and over again. "You think you can just do this to me? To us? That this was just some mistake? You didn't even think for a second that I deserved the truth, did you?"

"Nella, please—" Sam started again, his voice strained, but I shook my head, cutting him off.

"No," I said, my voice low and controlled, though the storm inside me was threatening to erupt. "I don't want to hear it. Not from you."

I turned toward the door, feeling the weight of the brokenness settling in my chest. "Get out," I said to Maya, my tone final, devoid of emotion.

"Leave. Now."

She hesitated, but I didn't care. I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of confronting her directly. She gathered her things in silence and quickly left the room. When the door clicked shut behind her, Sam stood there, still in his disheveled state, his eyes full of regret.

I didn't even look back at him as I grabbed my phone from my bag and turned toward the exit. "Goodbye, Sam," I said, my voice steady and empty.

"Happy birthday."

The door slammed behind me with a finality that left nothing more to say. I had walked in expecting a celebration, a moment of love. Instead, I was walking away from the man I had once thought I would do forever with, from everything I thought was real.

The heartbreak would come later. But for now, I just needed to leave.

I couldn't go home. The apartment felt too suffocating, the thought of facing that betrayal unbearable. So, I called Ashley. She was at Sam's door within minutes, ready to pick up the pieces, as always.

We didn't speak much during the drive to her place, the weight of the night pressing down on both of us. It was only once we were settled on her couch that the words started tumbling out of me.

"Girl, I'm in shock," Ashley said, her voice a mix of disbelief and anger. "Sam? With that new intern? The one you've been talking about for weeks? That's just... gross."

I thought I was beyond crying for a man. I thought I had outgrown that kind of vulnerability. But my emotions betrayed me in an instant. The tears came—fast and hot—as I tried to speak through the knot in my throat.

"I still can't believe it," I whispered, my voice cracking. "How did Maya even end up in his bedroom? How could Sam do this to me? With an intern—someone training under me?" My chest felt like it was caving in. "Why? Why would he choose to hurt me like this?"

Ashley handed me a tissue, her face a mix of sympathy and fury. "Baby girl, this is not on you. It's his loss, okay? People mess up... but that's on him."

She pushed a bottle of wine into my hands, but I didn't want to drown the hurt in alcohol. I wanted to scream, to hit something, to tear the world apart. But instead, I let the silence stretch between us, the only sound my phone buzzing relentlessly with message after message from Sam. I didn't want to hear his apologies, his lies. Men like him could lie like they were born for it. And cheating? That was just something they did as easily as breathing.

Ashley didn't let me answer, though. When I told her I might pick up just to hear what he had to say, she turned off my phone with a swift swipe. "You don't need that right now," she insisted. "You'll hear his bullshit later, but tonight is about you. We'll deal with him tomorrow."

We stayed up, talking until the early hours, drowning in outrage and the injustice of it all. Ashley cursed both Sam and Maya with a fervor I couldn't match, her words sharp and vengeful. She even promised to accompany me to work the next day, ready to tear Maya down if I needed her. If anyone was going to make Maya regret her actions, it was Ashley. She didn't care about consequences—no one messed with me and got away with it.

I'd planned to skip work the next day, too raw to face it. But I knew deep down that avoiding Maya wouldn't help. The office wasn't that big, and sooner or later, I'd have to look her in the eye. She wouldn't feel any shame, I knew that. The confidence she wore like armor this night told me she was ready to flaunt her victory.

Sam kept calling. His texts were full of apologies, promises, and pleas for forgiveness. But I couldn't even bring myself to read them. What was there to say? I wasn't interested in his excuses.

The clock ticked past 5 AM before I finally dragged myself out of bed. I showered quickly and dressed in one of Ashley's oversized sweaters. It fit better than anything in my her closet. She was a little more... voluptuous than me, and her clothes swallowed me whole. But right then, I didn't care.

Ashley was barely awake when I left to have my bath. "Thought you weren't going to work today?" she mumbled, her eyes still heavy with sleep.

I stood tall, trying to ignore the storm brewing inside me. "I changed my mind. I'm not letting that b***h get the satisfaction." My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn't apologize. Anger was the only thing I could hold onto right now.

Ashley nodded, her expression fierce even in her groggy state. "That's my girl. But listen, if you need me—call me. I'll come handle that b***h in a heartbeat."

I chuckled, despite the ache in my chest. "You'd better sleep while you can, Dr. Ashley. You're gonna need the energy for your night shift later."

I grabbed my bag and turned to leave. But I paused, glancing back at her. "Wait, didn't you say your parents were coming over today?"

She groaned, pulling the pillow over her face. "Yeah, well, they've got their 'couple's meeting' or whatever. Honestly, I wish they'd keep their marriage drama to themselves and out of my life."

I laughed softly. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled into the pillow. "Love you."

"Love you too, girl."

I left her apartment, the weight of everything still heavy on my shoulders.

I arrived at the office earlier than usual, hoping the quiet environment would help me gather my thoughts. When I walked in, the building was empty. I breathed a little easier—until I saw Mrs. Clara, the office cleaner, pushing her cart down the hallway.

"Morning, Mrs. Clara," I said, trying to sound casual.

"Good morning, Nella," she replied with a soft smile, sensing the tension in my posture.

I made my way to my office, each step feeling heavier than the last. As I opened the door, my stomach dropped.

There she was. Maya.

Sitting in my chair.

Not in the guest chair. Not even standing awkwardly, as she should've been, but sitting—bold and comfortable, flipping a pen between her fingers like she owned the place.

I froze. I couldn't move. The shock was too much, too sudden. I had imagined this moment a thousand times, but nothing could have prepared me for seeing her in my space, in my chair.

The audacity.

She didn't flinch when I entered, didn't even seem surprised. Instead, she leaned back and gave me an unnervingly smug smile.

My blood boiled. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Just last night, I had caught her in my boyfriend's bed, and now she was in my office, playing with my things as if she belonged here. How could she be so calm? So unbothered?

Maya picked up a photo from my desk, one of me and Sam, and studied it for a long moment, her gaze flicking from the photo to me. That same smug, almost taunting smile played on her lips.

"Can I help you with something?" I managed to ask, my voice a controlled calm I didn't even recognize.

Maya didn't answer. She simply stared back at me, that smile still glued to her face. And I knew, in that moment, that the storm inside me was just beginning.

I could feel my fists balling at my sides, the tension in my shoulders unbearable. Maya's smile was maddening, and I was losing the fragile grip I had on my composure. The silence between us stretched, heavy and thick, as if the air itself was waiting for something to break.

Finally, she spoke, her voice dripping with something I couldn't quite place. "Oh, don't worry. I'm just admiring your taste in office decor," she said, flicking the photo of Sam and me back onto the desk with an almost casual air, as though it meant nothing. But it meant everything to me. To us.

My jaw clenched, and I forced myself to take a step forward, each movement deliberate. I wasn't going to let her intimidate me. Not here. Not now.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Maya?" I managed, the words coming out sharper than I intended. But she just shrugged, her eyes twinkling with some dark amusement.

"Relax. I'm not doing anything," she said, sitting up a little straighter in my chair. She crossed one leg over the other, her posture absurdly self-assured. "I just came to drop the files you asked me to finish up two weeks ago before your travel."

"Really?" I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in my throat. "And you do that by sitting on my chair?" "Huh". "After what happened last night?".

Her eyes didn't flinch, didn't soften. If anything, her expression grew even more calculating, like she was savoring every second of this.

"You're the one who walked in on us, remember?" she replied coolly, as though I'd been the one to break some unspoken rule, not her. "And as for what I did—well, it was your boyfriend's choice too, wasn't it?"

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I didn't want to hear her twisted version of events. I didn't want to know that she was trying to turn everything around, to make me the villain in this messed-up scenario.

But it was hard to ignore the truth in her words. Sam had let it happen. Sam had betrayed me. And I still couldn't understand how I had missed it.

I took a deep breath, fighting to steady myself, to rein in the surge of emotions crashing over me. Anger, hurt, disbelief—it was all mixing into a storm inside me, threatening to spill over.

"Get out," I said, my voice cold and low. "Right now. I'm done with you."

But Maya didn't budge for a while and then stood up, she stared at me, her gaze unyielding. "Sure miss Nella" she said, her tone suddenly softer, almost condescending. "Well I don't think it's necessary and matured for us to mix office life with our personal life's" "don't you think same?"

I stepped closer, my heart pounding in my chest. "I don't care how long you've been a part of Sam's life. I don't care how well you think you know him. You're not welcome here, Maya. Not in my office. Not in my life."

She smiled weirdly, looking almost bored now, like I was some minor inconvenience she was patiently waiting to be rid of. "Well, I wasn't expecting to be welcomed to your life but it would be better you be nice to me," she said, her voice more certain than ever. "In fact, I think we need to talk more. There's a lot you don't know about Sam. A lot you'll never understand."

Maya's eyes flicked to the door as if she were deciding whether she should leave or not. The silence dragged on. I stood there, rooted to the spot, watching her watch me. She was the picture of calm, while I was barely holding it together.

"Why don't you tell me what you're really here for, Maya?" I demanded. "Why this game?