Chapter 23 Confidant

Chapter 23 Confidant
Going to work felt impossible.

My whole body ached—not physically, but in that deep, bruised way that comes from emotional whiplash. Marco’s message kept replaying in my head like a bruise I couldn’t stop pressing.

Lose this number!

But it was my last year of residency. I didn’t have the luxury of falling apart. I needed to show up, impress, survive. Even if New York wasn’t where I wanted to stay, I couldn’t afford to be jobless. I needed the experience, the paycheck, the chance to save for my own practice in Marfa.

So I forced myself out of bed.

Before leaving, I went to check on Sarah—partly because of the unlocked door last night, because something felt off. But when I opened my bedroom door, she was already in the kitchen, hair messy, still in yesterday’s clothes, flipping eggs like she hadn’t been dead asleep in full outfit a few hours ago.

Her phone was vibrating nonstop on the counter.She didn’t even look at it.

“Morning,” I said softly.She glanced up, eyes tired but alert. “Morning.”

“What happened last night?”. She hesitated, jaw tightening. “I’ll explain later.”

That wasn’t like her. Sarah always overshared, always talked through her problems before they even became problems. Seeing her shut down like that made something twist in my stomach.

But she made breakfast—toast, eggs, even coffee. I was grateful. I didn’t have the energy to pretend I wasn’t falling apart.

“Thank you,” I said, grabbing a plate. “You should answer your phone.”

She snorted. “I’ve had enough.”

Enough of what? Enough of who?

I didn’t push. I didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to unravel someone else’s crisis when mine was already hanging by a thread.

“Okay,” I said quietly. “I’ll see you later.”

She nodded, eyes flicking to her buzzing phone with a look that wasn’t annoyance anymore—it was dread.

As I walked out the door, I told myself it was probably Alex. Maybe there is trouble in paradise.

By the time I got home that evening, I was running on fumes. My shift felt twice as long, my body felt twice as heavy, and Marco’s message still sat in my chest like a bruise I kept pressing.

I pushed open the apartment door, half-expecting it to be unlocked again. It wasn’t.

Sarah was on the couch, knees pulled to her chest, staring at the TV without actually watching it. The volume was low, the room dim, and her phone—silent now—was face‑down beside her.She looked… emptied out. Like she’d cried herself past the point of tears.

She looked up when I walked in. “You’re home,” she said, voice small.

“Yeah.” I dropped my bag and sat beside her. “You said you’d explain.”

She didn’t answer right away. She rubbed her hands together, like she was trying to warm them, even though the apartment wasn’t cold.

“It’s Alex,” she finally said. I nodded. “I figured.”

“Yesterday,” she said, voice barely above a whisper, “the reason you found me sleeping like that… I was exhausted. I cried until I passed out.”

My heart clenched. “Sarah…”

She shook her head, cutting me off. “I think Alex is cheating on me.” The words hung in the air like smoke.

She stared at her hands. “He left yesterday without saying anything. Just… rushed out. When I called, he didn’t pick up. Not once. I waited for hours. I kept calling. Nothing.”

I felt a cold ripple go through me.That wasn’t normal.Not even for Alex.

“So I left,” she continued. “I came back home. And then he started calling nonstop. Messages, calls, everything. Saying he wants to explain. Saying it’s not what I think.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “I’m done, Emily. I’m really done. I’ve been keeping a blind eye on so many things.”

She rubbed her face, exhausted. “All those calls he answered outside? Or in the bathroom? Or when he walked far away from me? I kept telling myself it was work. Or stress. Or… something.”

I stayed quiet, letting her speak.

“And even the story about you saving his grandmother…” She looked up at me, eyes filled with doubt. “I’m starting to question that too. He never mentioned his family. Not once. Not a single detail.”

I reached for her hand. “Sarah… I’m here. Whatever you decide, whatever happens next, I’m here.”

She nodded, but her eyes drifted toward her silent phone—face down, like she couldn’t bear to look at it.

We stayed on the couch for a while, just breathing in the same quiet space. Sarah’s head rested against my shoulder, her body still trembling from everything she’d held in. I wanted to protect her. I wanted to fix it. But all I could do was be there.

Eventually, I pulled myself up to make us something to eat. Something warm. Something grounding. I was chopping vegetables when a sharp knock echoed through the apartment.

I froze. Sarah’s eyes snapped up to mine, wide and terrified.

I didn’t need to ask who it was. I already knew.

I wiped my hands on a towel and walked to the door.I opened the door just enough to block the entrance with my body.

Alex stood there. His hair was messy, his eyes wild with desperation, like he hadn’t slept. His phone was in his hand, screen still lit up with unanswered calls.

“Emily,” he said, voice strained. “Please. I need to talk to her.”

“No.” My voice came out firmer than I expected. “She doesn’t want to see you. She needs space.”

He tried to look past me, but I stepped forward, blocking his view.

“Alex,” I said quietly, “go home. Give her time.”

His jaw clenched. “You don’t understand.” “I understand enough,” I replied

For a moment, he just stood there—breathing hard, eyes darting like he was fighting with himself. Then he stepped back, running a hand through his hair.

“Tell her I’m not leaving until she talks to me,” he muttered.

I shut the door before he could say anything else. He didn’t leave.

I could hear him pacing outside, the floorboards creaking faintly through the door. Every few minutes, he’d stop—like he was listening. Like he was waiting for Sarah to break.

Inside, Sarah curled into herself on the couch, hands pressed to her ears. “I can’t do this,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

I sat beside her, pulling her close. “He’ll leave. He has to. But even as I said it, I wasn’t sure.

Because he didn’t sound like a man who’d been caught cheating.He sounded like a man hiding something. Something bigger. Something dangerous.