Stop Funding the Affair That Broke My Heart

For three years, I paid for Emma's life after she ran from her abusive ex-husband.

I covered her hospital bills, her lawyer, her rent, and the small perfume shop she opened with my money. I even kept her wealthy werewolf clients happy while she learned how to stand on her own again.

My fiance, Lucas Hale, had always said I was doing the right thing.

"You're her sister," he would tell me. "Who else is she supposed to rely on?"

So I relied on him.

When I flew to New York to expand my brand, Lucas promised he would meet me at the airport when I returned. I finished my work two days early and came home without telling anyone.

The apartment was mine. I had bought it before Lucas and I got engaged. The building used a keycard system, and only six people had access: me, Lucas, Emma, my assistant, the building manager, and the night guard.

I opened the door just after midnight.

A woman laughed inside.

I froze with my hand still on the lock.

Then Lucas said, "Slow down, Emma."

My stomach dropped.

I stepped into the living room and saw my fiance sitting on the sofa with my sister in his lap. Emma wore one of my silk robes. Lucas's shirt was open, and his hand rested on her bare thigh.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then Emma covered her mouth.

"Nora..."

Lucas stood up so quickly that Emma almost fell onto the sofa.

"Nora, wait."

I looked at them. The room smelled of my favorite perfume, Moonlit Rose. I had created that scent myself. Every bottle came with a small silver label showing the date and moon phase of the day it was opened.

On the wall beside the sofa stood an empty bottle.

I walked over and picked it up.

The label read: March 4. Waxing moon.

Lucas took one step toward me. "Let me explain."

I raised my hand.

"Don't."

There were ninety-nine empty Moonlit Rose bottles in that apartment. I had placed them there over the years because Lucas liked the scent and Emma said it made the room feel warm.

I had never imagined they were keeping count for me.

I carried the bottle to the dining table and opened my laptop. The building's access records were linked to my account. I had checked them before, usually to confirm deliveries or repairs.

Now I searched every date on the bottles.

March 4. Lucas's keycard entered at 8:12 p.m. Emma's entered six minutes later.

March 19. Lucas entered at 7:48 p.m. Emma at 7:53.

April 2. Both cards. Same apartment. Three hours.

I pulled up the garage camera records. Lucas's black SUV appeared on every date. I checked the perfume shop's staff schedule. Emma had marked herself as off on those nights, and Lucas had claimed he was working late.

Then I opened our shared credit account.

Two dinners at the same restaurant. Two movie tickets. Hotel charges near the shop. A jewelry store receipt for a silver bracelet Emma wore tonight.

The dates matched.

All ninety-nine of them.

I printed everything and carried the pages downstairs to the back room of the perfume shop. The store was closed, but the scent of oils and alcohol still filled the air. I lined the empty bottles across the long worktable, one by one, with the records beneath them.

By the time Lucas and Emma arrived, the table was covered.

Emma stopped in the doorway.

Lucas stared at the bottles.

I stood behind the table and folded my arms. "Ninety-nine times."

"Nora, it wasn't like that at first," Lucas said.

"Which time was the first?"

He opened his mouth and closed it.

Emma began to cry. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"You used my apartment, my money, my car, and my schedule."

"I was scared," she whispered. "Lucas was the only person who understood me."

I looked at Lucas. "You were the only person who understood her?"

He rubbed his forehead. "Our relationship changed."

"We were engaged."

"That doesn't mean people can't change."

I picked up the bracelet receipt and placed it in front of him. "You bought her this three weeks ago. You told me you were buying replacement parts for the shop's ventilation system."

Lucas glanced at the receipt. His face tightened, but he did not deny it.

Emma reached for his hand.

That small movement answered everything.

I laughed once, without humor. "How long were you planning to keep doing this?"

Lucas took off his wedding band. We were not married yet, but he wore the ring every day because he said it made our promise real.

He placed it on the table between the bottles.

"I'm ending our engagement," he said. "I'm going to marry Emma."

Emma's crying stopped.

I stared at the ring.

Lucas continued, "You and I are too different. You care about work, money, and control. Emma needs someone who can give her love without making her feel like a debt."

I looked at the store around us. Every shelf, every bottle, every bill had my name behind it. Emma had used my home as a secret meeting place, and Lucas had used my money to court her.

Still, he spoke as if I were the problem.

"You're right," I said. "We are different."

Lucas moved closer to Emma and stood in front of her.

She pressed her face against his back.

He looked at me and said, "You can hate me if you want. But I hope you can at least be more understanding toward Emma. Don't make her feel guilty."