Chapter 19
The line went dead, and my heart was racing, a thousand questions flooding my mind. Who was she? What did she mean by “babe“? Why was she calling Scott?
I placed Scott’s phone back on the table, my hand trembling as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. I didn’t even hear him leave the bathroom until his voice broke through my thoughts.
“Hannah? What’s wrong?” Scott asked, his tone laced with concern.
I turned to face him, my expression a mixture of hurt and confusion. “Are you cheating on me?” I blurted out, my voice shaking.
His brows furrowed, his face a picture of genuine confusion. “What? Of course not!” “Then who is this?” I demanded, gesturing toward his phone. “A woman just called, and she called you babe. She asked if you missed her. Who is she, Scott?”
His eyes darted to the phone, then back to me. “I… I have no idea who that is,” he said, his voice steady but defensive.
“You’re lying,” I snapped, my chest tightening as the words left my mouth. “You have to be lying. Why else would she call you babe?”
“Hannah, I swear,” he said, stepping closer, his hands raised as if to calm me. “I don’t know who she is. I would never do that to you.”
But his words didn’t reach me. The doubt had already taken root, growing with every passing second.
I shook my head, backing away from him. “I can’t do this right now, Scott. I need space.”
“Hannah, wait,” he said, reaching for me, but I pulled away.
“No,” I said firmly, my voice breaking. “Just…. give me space.”
Without another word, I grabbed my coat and rushed out of the apartment.
The cold night air stung my face as I ran, tears streaming down my cheeks. My mind was a chaotic mess, replaying the woman’s voice over and over. “Hey, babe. Miss me?”
I didn’t know what to believe. Scott had always been honest, always treated me with love and care. But that call… that call had shattered something inside me.
As I turned the corner, I nearly ran straight into my mother. She was standing outside her hotel, probably on her way to check on me.
22 What
“Hannah?” she said, her face falling when she saw my tears. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, I let out a sob, covering my face with my hands.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, pulling me into her arms. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it
out.”
I shook my head, unable to form a coherent sentence. How could I explain that the man I
3/3 69.2%
14:01 Wed, 2 Apr out.”
677%
I shook my head, unable to form a coherent sentence. How could I explain that the man I
was supposed to marry, the man I had finally started to trust again, might be hiding. something from me?
My mother held me tightly, whispering soothing words as I cried into her shoulder. But no amount of comfort could erase the pain and doubt swirling inside me.
I stayed with my mother for a while, letting her presence calm me. She didn’t push me to talk, and for that, I was grateful. But eventually, I knew I had to go back. I had to face Scott and figure out the truth.
When I returned to the apartment, the atmosphere was heavy. Scott wasn’t there–he must have stepped out to give me the space I’d asked for. Part of me felt relief at not having to face him right away, but another part of me felt an ache at his absence.
I sat on the couch, my hands clasped tightly in my lap as I tried to process everything. My mind kept circling back to the call, the voice, the words.
A knock at the door startled me. I wiped my eyes quickly, trying to compose myself before answering.
One of the staff from the wedding venue stood there, holding a manila envelope. “Ms. Leigh, this just came for you,” she said, handing it to me.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the envelope and closing the door.
I sat back down, my hands trembling as I opened it. Inside were a stack of photos. My heart dropped as I flipped through them.
The first photo showed Scott sitting at a bar with a woman I didn’t recognize. She was leaning close to him, her hand resting on his arm.
The next photo showed them laughing together, their heads close as if sharing a secret. And then, the final photo. Scott was kissing her.
The room spun as I stared at the image, my vision blurring with tears. I felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me, the air stolen from my lungs.
The photos fell from my hands, scattering across the floor. My chest ached as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
Was this why the woman had called? Was this what Scott had been hiding?
Tears streamed down my face as I sat there, the weight of betrayal pressing down on me. I had let my guard down, let myself believe in love again, only to have it shattered.
I didn’t know what to do or what to believe. All I knew was that my heart was breaking all over again.
