Shattered Truths

Chapter 12: Confiding in Sarah

The drive away from Claire's apartment stretched into a blur of headlights and empty roads. Matt's hands gripped the wheel too tightly, knuckles pale against the dark leather. Every word Claire had spoken replayed in his mind, twisted echoes bouncing against the inside of his skull. "I owed him." "Marcus doesn't like exposure." "You don't know what you've started, Matt."

He didn't know where he was going until the familiar curve of Sarah's street appeared in his headlights. His chest tightened. Of course—her house. Whenever the ground beneath him collapsed, he always ended up here.

He parked, sat for a moment staring at the glow spilling from her kitchen window, and wondered if he should even tell her. Marcus Hale wasn't just another piece of gossip to unload over tea. Marcus was dangerous. Claire's voice still rang in his ears, half warning, half threat. If Sarah knew, would she even be safe?

But the thought of carrying the weight alone was unbearable.

Matt forced himself out of the car and up the steps. He knocked softly. The door opened within seconds, as if Sarah had been waiting.

"Matt," she breathed, her expression folding into instant concern. Without a word, she pulled him into a hug. "You look awful. Come in."

The warmth of her arms nearly undid him. He clung back before following her into the living room. The familiar scent of chamomile and the low hum of her diffuser created a cocoon that felt miles away from the darkness he'd just stepped out of. He slumped onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.

Sarah sat beside him but didn't press. She just waited, her silence patient and steady.

Finally, he lifted his head, his voice rough. "I confronted her tonight."

Sarah's brows drew together. "Claire?"

He nodded. "I found out everything I didn't want to believe."

"Tell me," she said softly.

And so he did. The words tumbled out—how he'd uncovered the bank records, the transfers, the assets tied to Aaron, the shell companies. How Claire admitted she'd been supporting him. How she justified it all with some twisted sense of obligation.

But Matt didn't stop there. He told Sarah about the name he hadn't been able to get out of his head since Marie first showed him the file. Marcus Hale. The fixer. The shadow. Claire's connection to him, Aaron's debts, the threats that lurked just beneath the surface.

As he spoke, Sarah's calm expression shifted. Concern darkened into alarm. Her hand, resting on her lap, curled into a fist.

When he finally finished, his chest felt hollow, as though the words had scooped out the last of his strength. "She looked at me like I was the one in the wrong for finding out. Like I should have kept ignoring the signs. And when I said Marcus's name—Sarah, she went pale. She was afraid."

Sarah exhaled slowly, choosing her words with care. "Matt, this isn't just betrayal anymore. This is dangerous. You shouldn't even be anywhere near it."

"I know," he said quickly. "I know. But how do I stop? How do I walk away when she's wrapped me into it without me even knowing? She drained our money, Sarah. She stole from me to keep Aaron afloat—and to keep Marcus quiet."

Sarah shook her head. "You trusted her. You thought you were building a life together. That's not weakness—that's love. But now? Now it's survival."

Her words pierced him. For weeks, he'd been drowning in self-blame, replaying every sign he'd ignored, every instinct he'd silenced. "Maybe I should have trusted myself sooner," he admitted, shame tugging at his voice. "There were so many signs. But I kept telling myself she loved me. That I was being paranoid. That if I just held on a little longer, it would get better."

Sarah placed her hand on his shoulder, grounding him. "Matt, don't confuse hope with fault. She manipulated you. She twisted your trust until you doubted yourself. That's what people like her—and men like Marcus—do. They make you question your own reality so you can't see the truth."

He swallowed hard, her words landing heavier than he wanted them to. "It's just... it's hard to let go of the life I thought we'd have. The plans we made, the future I believed in. It feels like she's poisoned every memory."

"You don't move on by untangling her lies," Sarah said firmly. "You move on by refusing to let them define you. Claire will never give you the closure you're looking for. She's already shown you she won't take responsibility. She'll keep twisting the story until you're the villain."

Matt hesitated, staring at the floor. "But maybe if I just talk to her one more time—"

"Matt." Sarah's voice sharpened, and when he looked up, her eyes held the kind of stern clarity only a sister could deliver. "Listen to yourself. You've already had three conversations where you asked her for honesty. Did she give it to you? No. Each time, she gave you just enough to keep you questioning yourself. That's not closure—it's manipulation."

Her words stung because they were true. In the café, Claire had blamed him. In the apartment parking lot, she'd kissed Aaron. Tonight, she'd confessed only under pressure and still wrapped it in excuses. Every encounter left him emptier, not fuller.

Still, the ache inside him pulsed. "Then why do I feel like I need answers? Like if I could just understand why, maybe I'd be able to breathe again?"

"Because you're human," Sarah said gently, softening again. "When people hurt us, we want logic. We want a reason that makes it all make sense. But Matt, some choices aren't logical. They're selfish. And if you keep looking for logic in Claire, you'll only keep bleeding."

Her hand squeezed his. "The only answer you need is that she chose herself—and she chose Aaron and Marcus—over you. That's the truth. No explanation will make that less cruel."

Matt's eyes burned. He blinked hard, fighting back the sting. "You think I should just... let it go?"

"I think," Sarah said slowly, "that you should stop thinking closure comes from her. It has to come from you. From deciding she doesn't get to keep writing the story. You do."

Silence fell. The ticking clock on her wall filled the space between them. Matt leaned back, exhausted but lighter for having said everything aloud. For once, the storm didn't feel like it was only inside him.

Still, the shadow of Marcus loomed. "Sarah," he whispered, his voice low, "what if she's right? What if I really have started something? She warned me. What if Marcus comes after me?"

Her expression hardened. "Then you need to be careful. You can't keep digging, Matt. If Marcus Hale is involved, you're not dealing with jealousy or lies anymore—you're dealing with power. Men like him don't care about your heartbreak. They care about control. And they don't let go easily."

He nodded, the fear curling in his gut. "So what do I do?"

"You protect yourself," Sarah said simply. "You lean on me, on people who actually love you. And you stop giving Claire the chance to pull you back into her web."

For the first time in weeks, Matt managed a faint, weary smile. He reached over, squeezed her hand. "Thanks, Sarah. For everything. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"That's what sisters are for," she said softly.

They sat together in silence, the kind that felt healing rather than empty. Outside, the night pressed on, but inside Sarah's living room, Matt felt a fragile thread of hope pulling him toward something steadier. The pain was still there. The betrayal still throbbed. But with Sarah beside him, he could almost believe that the truth, no matter how ugly, didn't have to be the end of him.

And for the first time, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—Claire's secrets didn't deserve another word from his mouth.