Chapter 1: Shattered Secrets in the Dark

Five years. I’d been secretly tangled up with Carter Whitaker for five long years—and even now, I can’t decide if I’m confessing that to myself or daring the universe to notice.

It was the kind of secret that clung to my skin, heavy and suffocating, making me feel like I was living in someone else’s house, walking around in clothes that didn’t fit. Every morning, I’d pass Carter in the kitchen, both of us careful not to let our eyes linger for more than a heartbeat—just two step-siblings, polite and distant, whenever our parents were around.

But when the sun went down and the house fell silent, we always found our way to each other, ending up tangled together in the same bed. Limbs knotted in the dark. Sometimes I’d just stare at the ceiling, listening to his breathing. I wondered if I could ever let go—or if I even wanted to.

Everything changed the night I overheard him talking to a friend.

“Man, you slept with your stepsister when she was eighteen and strung her along for five years. You gonna make it official or what?”

The words hit me like a punch straight to the chest. I couldn’t breathe. I pressed myself flat against the wall, heart thudding, hope clawing its way up inside me. Maybe this was it—maybe he’d finally say he loved me, that we could stop pretending.

“You already said it—she’s my sister. We’re just... siblings. There’s no way I could make that public.”

His voice was cold. The kind of cold that seeps into your bones and makes you want to run. There was a sneer in his tone, like he was spitting the words out.

“If it wasn’t payback for her mom—that witch—I wouldn’t have touched her.”

I heard the bitterness, the kind of anger he never bothered to hide when it came to my mom. My hands started shaking, my whole body going rigid.

“Her mom was the woman who broke up my parents’ marriage and drove my mom to her grave. Bet she never thought her own daughter would end up in my bed, begging.”

I felt sick. The words crawled under my skin and stayed there, burning—impossible to shake off.

“I’ve already proposed to Savannah. The wedding’s next month. Next time you see her, don’t forget to call her your sister-in-law.” His voice was taunting, almost daring me to react.

That was the moment I broke. My whole world tilted sideways, and I couldn’t breathe. I pressed my fist to my mouth, fighting to hold myself together. God, don’t fall apart now.

And right after that, I was done. No more secrets. No more pretending.

On the day Carter got engaged, I bought a ticket and boarded a plane to Chicago. I didn’t even look back.

Once I left, I never looked back… Not even for a second. Not even to wonder if he missed me.

But secrets cling, no matter how far you run. I could still hear their voices echoing in my mind, sharp as glass.

“But between Mariah and Savannah, who’s more exciting, Carter?” The question was tossed out like a dare, and I could almost see the smirk on his friend’s face, teasing, goading.

“Are you kidding? Mariah’s been with Carter for five years. She’s not blood, so yeah, messing around with your stepsister is even hotter!”

Laughter, sharp and ugly, filled the private lounge. It stabbed at my ears. I pressed my back to the door, heart pounding so hard it hurt, wishing I could disappear.

“But Savannah’s the one Carter really cares about. No matter what Mariah does, she can’t compete with his first love!”

Their words cut me open, each one digging a little deeper. I could feel myself shrinking, wishing I could just vanish. God, please—let me be invisible.

Carter finally snapped.

“Enough!”

He cut them off, sharp and cold, but his next words sent my heart straight through the floor.

“Savannah’s about to be your sister-in-law. Don’t compare her to that slut.”

I bit down hard on my lip, nails digging crescent moons into my palm. I tasted blood, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.

...

I stood quietly at the door for a long time. Only when the pain in my chest finally faded into numbness did I push the door open and walk in.

The room reeked of whiskey and expensive cologne. Everyone’s faces wore sly, mocking smiles—the kind that made your skin crawl and your stomach twist.

Carter lounged lazily on the sofa, one arm draped over the back, his eyes half-lidded. He crooked his finger at me, like he was calling a dog.

“Mariah, what took you so long? Your brother’s getting impatient.”

A guy in the corner snickered, flicking his beer bottle. “Yeah, you’ve made your brother suffer!”

Someone else tossed out something crude, and the room erupted in laughter. I felt every word like a slap. My cheeks burned. I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing I could melt into the floorboards.

So in his and his friends’ eyes, our relationship was already a public joke.

Only I was foolish enough to believe it was a secret just between us.

I looked up at Carter, searching his face for something—anything—that might tell me I was wrong, that I still mattered.

He frowned, then shot a glare at the guy who’d been teasing me. With a sudden jerk, he kicked out like he might actually hit him, and the laughter died down, awkward and sharp.

He sounded pissed. “Knock it off. Had enough laughs? Don’t bring that trash talk around my sister.”