I Saw My Best Friend's Text on My Fiancé's Phone During Our Engagement Party — Part 2 of 3

Whispers Behind Closed French Doors

"Don't touch me," I said, stepping backward toward the porch steps. The sheer force of my tone made Julian freeze in his tracks. Nearby, my aunt turned her head, noticing the sharp edge in my voice, but I didn't care anymore about keeping up appearances.

"Inside. Right now. Both of you," I commanded, turning on my heel and pushing open the French doors that led into my parents' quiet study. Julian followed immediately, his head bowed, while Chloe hesitated on the threshold before creeping in like a trespasser.

I closed the doors behind us and clicked the brass lock into place. The muffled sound of jazz and chatter continued outside, completely disconnected from the nightmare unfolding within the book-lined walls. I tossed the phone onto the mahogany desk between us.

"Explain it," I demanded, crossing my arms to hide how violently I was trembling. "Are you two sleeping together? Is that what this is?"

The accusation hung in the air like a live wire. Chloe instantly burst into tears, covering her mouth with both hands, shaking her head frantically. Julian stepped forward, his eyes wide and pleading.

"No! Clara, God, no! It's not that! I swear on my life, I have never touched Chloe!"

The Paper Trail of a Secret Life

"Then what haven't you told me, Julian?" I screamed, tears finally spilling over my eyelashes. "Why is my maid of honor texting my fiancé about secrets at our own engagement party? What are you running out of time for?"

Julian sank into one of the leather armchairs, burying his face in his hands. A heavy, sickening silence filled the room. For several seconds, the only sound was Chloe's stifled sobbing near the doorway. Finally, Julian looked up, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed with red.

"I lost everything, Clara," he whispered, his voice trembling so hard the words barely carried across the desk. "The business didn't just stumble this quarter. It went under three months ago. The debt collectors have been calling every single day."

I stared at him, unable to comprehend. Julian ran a boutique digital marketing firm that had seemed to flourish. He had bought a new car, insisted on paying for our luxury vacation, and purchased an expensive diamond ring for my finger.

"What are you talking about?" I stammered, my hand rising to touch the ring on my left hand. "You just signed three new clients. You told me the company was expanding."

"I lied," he choked out, tears rolling down his stubbled cheeks. "I took out massive high-interest personal loans to keep up the appearance of success. I was drowning. And when the bank threatened to freeze my accounts, I... I went to Chloe."

I snapped my head toward Chloe, whose face was buried in a handkerchief. "You went to Chloe? For what?"

"To ask for money," Chloe sobbed, stepping forward. "He asked me for fifty thousand dollars two weeks ago to stop the foreclosure on your dream townhouse. He promised he would tell you tonight before the announcements, but he kept stalling. Clara, I told him if he didn't confess the truth to you tonight, I was going to tell you myself tomorrow morning."