Chapter 1: The Confrontation
I was shaking when I knocked on her door.
Twenty-four years old and I had never felt this kind of rage before. My boyfriend of two years had been texting someone late at night. I found the messages two days ago. Explicit. Filthy. No room for misunderstanding. Her name was Sasha. Same age as me. Same city. Same f*****g apartment building, three floors down.
I did not cry when I read them.
I got dressed.
Black leggings, tight crop top, hair in a high ponytail.
I looked like I was going to the gym.
I was not.
She opened the door barefoot in tiny sleep shorts and a loose tank top, long dark hair messy, lips still glossy from whatever she had been doing before I showed up. She looked exactly like the girl in the selfies my boyfriend had saved in a hi
