Nathaniel's study was a masterpiece of order and precision. Antique books perfectly aligned, a polished oak desk, minimalist art on the walls. Like everything in his life: impeccable, calculated… cold.
Helena entered quietly. He was on an important call and had told her she could look for the blue folder with the plans for their new apartment in Manhattan.
What Nathaniel didn't know was that Helena hadn't slept well in weeks. She had started noticing things—small details, inconsistencies, carefully chosen words, looks that didn't match what was being said.
And her instinct—the one she used to ignore—was screaming at her to look beyond the obvious.
As she rummaged through the lower drawers, something creaked behind the books. A small black box, wedged behind an encyclopedia. She pulled it out carefully. It was covered in dust. Old. Heavy.
She opened it.
Inside were several sealed envelopes, folded photographs, a tiny velvet box… and one object that made her recoil.
A pregnancy test. Positive. Dated recently.
Helena held it with trembling fingers. Then she opened the first envelope.
A handwritten letter.
"Lauren… I don't know if what happened between us was a mistake. But I can't stop thinking about you. What I feel is tearing me apart. I can't keep being two people. Forgive me."
Her blood ran cold.
Lauren. Her best friend. Her lawyer. Her confidante.
The woman she had trusted with her entire life.
She pulled out a photo folded into quarters. Nathaniel, shirtless on a dock, kissing a woman with her back to the camera. Dark hair. Tall. The profile looked vaguely familiar… until she saw it: a small tattoo on the back of the neck. An anchor.
Lauren had that exact tattoo. She had shown it to her in college, one night when they swore they'd never let a man come between them.
Helena let the photo fall onto the desk. Her legs were shaking.
That's when she heard footsteps.
She shoved the box back into place, hiding it behind the books just in time before the door opened.
"Everything okay?" Nathaniel asked, with that soft smile he always used to disarm her.
Helena turned slowly.
"Yes. Everything's perfect," she lied, her voice flat.
He kissed her cheek, and his fingers laced with hers. But this time, Helena didn't feel safe.
She felt trapped.
While Nathaniel talked about the blueprints and the décor, she could only think of one thing:
How long had Lauren and he…? And why were they still lying to her?
That pregnancy test wasn't a relic from the past.
It was a ticking bomb.
And Helena was already standing in the fire.