In the days following Sophie's confession, Stacey found herself engulfed in a maelstrom of emotions. Sleep eluded her, and when it did come, it was plagued by nightmares of betrayal and deceit. The once comforting walls of her dorm room now felt like a prison, each corner echoing with memories tainted by lies.
Determined not to let despair consume her, Stacey resolved to confront Daniel. She needed answers, closure, and perhaps a sliver of understanding as to why the two people she held dearest had betrayed her so profoundly.
She decided to meet him at the campus café, a neutral ground where emotions might be kept in check. As she approached the café, she spotted Daniel seated by the window, his fingers drumming nervously against the table. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she pushed open the door and walked over.
"Stacey," Daniel greeted, standing up, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and apprehension.
"Daniel," she replied curtly, taking the seat opposite him.
An awkward silence settled between them, the ambient chatter of the café doing little to ease the tension.
Finally, Stacey broke the silence. "Why?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of her anguish.
Daniel sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I don't have a good answer. It was a mistake—a terrible, unforgivable mistake. I never wanted to hurt you."
Stacey's eyes narrowed. "A mistake? Sneaking around behind my back for months isn't a mistake, Daniel. It's a choice. Repeated choices."
He flinched at her words, nodding slowly. "You're right. I have no excuse. I was selfish and cowardly."
She leaned in, her voice trembling with emotion. "Did you ever love me?"
His eyes met hers, filled with sorrow. "I did. I still do. But I understand if you can't believe that."
Stacey felt a tear slip down her cheek. She hastily wiped it away, refusing to let him see her vulnerability. "I trusted you. I trusted both of you."
Daniel reached across the table, but she recoiled. "Please, Stacey. I know I don't deserve it, but I'm asking for your forgiveness."
She stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the tiled floor with a sharp screech that turned a few heads. Stacey didn't care. She stared down at Daniel, her hands clenched at her sides, her voice low and dangerous.
"You're not getting forgiveness, Daniel. Not today, maybe not ever. You lied to me, used me—and what's worse, you let me believe everything was perfect while you were playing house with Sophie behind my back."
Daniel stood too, desperation creeping into his voice. "It wasn't like that, Stacey. It got out of control. I didn't know how to stop it."
She shook her head slowly. "You didn't want to stop it."
With that, Stacey turned and walked out of the café. The autumn air bit at her cheeks, but the chill felt grounding. She welcomed it. Each step she took away from Daniel felt like peeling off a layer of naivety. The world she thought she knew had shifted, and with every breath, she began to understand that the Stacey from before—the trusting, eager-to-please version of herself—was gone.
She didn't go back to her dorm. Instead, she wandered aimlessly across campus, finally stopping at the empty steps outside the journalism building. The irony of it wasn't lost on her—she had spent three years learning how to expose the truth, and yet she had been blind to the one forming in her own life.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Sophie.
"I know you hate me, and you have every right to. But please, can we talk? I owe you the whole story."
Stacey stared at the screen. She didn't want more lies, more excuses. But something in her hesitated. What if there was more to this? What if Daniel wasn't the only one keeping secrets?
A week ago, she would have dismissed the thought. But now, she didn't trust anyone—not even herself. And that scared her more than anything.