Shattered Vows

Chapter 3: Silent Rage

The morning after the engagement party, Sophie awoke with a heavy weight pressing down on her chest. The events of the previous night still played in her mind like a cruel movie reel, each image sharpening her pain. She turned over in bed, finding Mark's side empty. He was already gone, no doubt having left early for one of his "work meetings." The very phrase now filled her with disgust.

Her hands clenched the duvet as a flash of anger surged through her. They think they've gotten away with it. They think I'm still in the dark.

But Sophie was done being in the dark. She needed answers, not just the vague snippets of conversation she had overheard in the garden. She needed proof. And to get it, she would have to play her role perfectly—be the loving, clueless fiancée while quietly dismantling the web of lies they had spun around her.

Sophie took a deep breath and forced herself out of bed. If she was going to do this, she had to stay calm, keep her emotions in check. Her rage simmered beneath the surface, but she knew it wouldn't help her now. She needed to be methodical, to observe, to question, and to gather every piece of evidence that would expose their betrayal.

Mark came home later that evening, his usual charming smile plastered on his face as he greeted her with a kiss. Sophie flinched inwardly, but outwardly, she smiled back, slipping into the role of the devoted fiancée. Her mind raced, thinking about the best way to start her investigation without arousing suspicion.

"So, how was work today?" she asked casually as she set the table for dinner. Her voice was light, carefree—completely unlike the storm brewing inside her.

Mark sat down, glancing at his phone before answering. "Same old stuff, you know. Meetings, calls, more meetings."

Sophie's heart skipped a beat, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she nodded and handed him a plate, watching as he scrolled through his phone with practiced nonchalance. It was like nothing had changed. He looked so calm, so normal, as if he weren't harboring a secret that could destroy them both.

"Late night again?" she asked, her voice a touch softer, as if she were genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, probably," Mark said, barely looking up. "There's this project I've been working on—it's been eating up a lot of time."

Sophie felt her jaw tighten, but she kept her expression neutral. "Oh? Which project?"

He paused for a second, his eyes flicking to her before returning to his phone. "It's nothing you'd be interested in—just boring financial stuff."

"Try me," Sophie pressed gently, pushing just enough to make him explain without raising alarm.

Mark hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "It's a merger deal we've been negotiating for a few months. A lot of late-night meetings to get it all squared away."

Sophie nodded, her mind whirring with questions. Late-night meetings, he said. So that's what you've been calling it. She bit her tongue, forcing herself not to say what she was thinking. Instead, she smiled and leaned in, her voice soft and sweet. "I just worry about you, working so much. You should take it easy."

Mark smiled back at her, completely unaware of the rage bubbling beneath her surface. "You're sweet. But I'm fine. It's almost wrapped up, I promise."

Almost wrapped up. Those words lingered in Sophie's mind. Is that how you'll wrap up your relationship with me too? She swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat. This game of pretense was going to be harder than she thought, but she knew it was necessary.

Over the next few days, Sophie fell deeper into the role of the loving fiancée while quietly digging into Mark's so-called work commitments. She asked more questions—subtle, probing questions about his meetings, his projects, his coworkers. Each time, she studied his responses, looking for cracks in his story, for inconsistencies she could latch onto.

Mark had grown complacent, too comfortable in his lies. He didn't suspect a thing as Sophie pulled at the threads of his web, carefully untangling the fabric of his deception.

One evening, when Mark was in the shower, Sophie seized her chance. She grabbed his phone from the nightstand, her heart pounding as she quickly swiped through his messages and emails. She knew Mark kept a lot of work-related correspondence on his phone, but she wasn't looking for business deals tonight. She was looking for anything that might confirm her suspicions.

Scrolling through his texts, she found nothing out of the ordinary. Just work-related messages, banter with his friends, and a few casual exchanges with his colleagues. But then, she found it.

A series of texts from Jessica.

Sophie's breath caught in her throat as she opened the messages. Her pulse raced as she read the seemingly innocent conversation—casual check-ins, jokes, nothing overtly incriminating. But one message stood out, sent just a few days before the engagement party: "Can't wait to see you tonight. We'll finally have some time to ourselves. Love you."

The words burned into Sophie's mind. Love you. Her sister had loved him—her fiancé. And they had been meeting in secret, behind her back, for who knows how long.

Sophie stared at the screen, her fingers trembling as she scrolled back through older messages. The affair had been carefully hidden, but the signs were all there now—encrypted within casual texts and innocent meet-ups. Jessica had used their closeness as sisters as a cover for her relationship with Mark. And Mark had gone along with it, stringing Sophie along like a fool.

Her hands gripped the phone tighter as her vision blurred with anger. How dare they?

But still, she couldn't confront them. Not yet. She needed more. She needed undeniable proof, something that would leave them no room to squirm out of their lies.

The next day, Sophie found herself standing outside the office building where Mark worked. She watched from her car as employees trickled out, their workday ending. Mark had texted earlier, saying he would be working late again. But Sophie wasn't buying it.

Sure enough, as she waited, her heart in her throat, she saw him. Mark emerged from the building, but he wasn't alone. Walking beside him, her arm casually draped over his, was Jessica.

Sophie's chest tightened as she watched them laugh, completely at ease, as if they had no cares in the world. They don't even bother hiding it anymore.

Her rage, which had been simmering quietly for days, now flared into a white-hot fury. She wanted to march over there, to confront them both, to scream at them for the years of lies and deceit. But she held back, her nails digging into her palms. Not yet. This was the proof she needed, but it wasn't enough. She needed them to admit it, to confess everything.

She watched them for a few more minutes, her heart pounding in her ears as they walked down the street, disappearing into the night.

Later that evening, Mark returned home, his usual charming smile in place. Sophie met him at the door, her own smile carefully plastered on, though it felt like it might crack at any second.

"Long day?" she asked, her voice steady, though her heart raged inside.

"Yeah," Mark replied, leaning in to kiss her. "But it's almost done."

Almost done. Sophie smiled back at him, her mind churning. Yes, it will be. Very soon.