Zander Kash
The confession hung in the dim hallway between us, heavy and irreversible.
For four years, I had locked those words behind stone walls, burying them beneath board meetings, corporate mergers, and a manufactured life. Saying them out loud felt like tearing open an old, unhealed wound. But as I searched Collin’s face, waiting for some flicker of relief or softened understanding, I saw only a sudden, burning fury flare in his eyes.
He didn't look touched. He looked sickened.
"How could you?" Collin’s voice shook, each word laced with pure venom. He took a step toward me, his hands shaking at his sides. "How could you stand at an altar, look a woman in the eye, and promise her forever when you were still in love with me?"
"Collin, you don't understand—"
"No, I don't!" Collin
