Confrontation seemed inevitable, but I needed a plan. That evening, after the kids were asleep, I approached Alex with a calm resolve. We sat in the dimly lit living room, the silence between us heavy with unspoken words.
« I know about Jordan, » I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. « I saw the pictures, the messages. I need to know what’s really going on. »
Alex’s expression shifted, the facade finally cracking. « It’s complicated, » Alex admitted, voice barely above a whisper. « Jordan and I…we have history. But it doesn’t change what we have now. »
I listened, heart pounding, as Alex explained the tangled web of past and present. There was no simple resolution, no easy explanation that could erase the tension that had settled between us. Trust, once broken, is not easily repaired, and I knew that this was only the beginning of a long and difficult journey.
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