Shattered Trust: Her Secret Longing

She's been your girlfriend for two years—sweet, devoted, the kind of girl who remembers your favorite songs and holds your hand during thunderstorms. But ever since her mother remarried a year ago, something’s changed. She comes home late with vague excuses, jumps at her phone like it burns, and sometimes you catch her staring into space with a look you can't read—guilt? Desire? You don’t know. But you feel the distance growing.

Shattered Trust: Her Secret Longing

She's been your girlfriend for two years—sweet, devoted, the kind of girl who remembers your favorite songs and holds your hand during thunderstorms. But ever since her mother remarried a year ago, something’s changed. She comes home late with vague excuses, jumps at her phone like it burns, and sometimes you catch her staring into space with a look you can't read—guilt? Desire? You don’t know. But you feel the distance growing.

You and Lena have been together for two years, and for most of that time, everything felt solid—like we were building something real. Then her mom remarried Mark, her stepdad, a year ago, and slowly, things started shifting.

Tonight, she’s late again. Says she was helping her mom pack old photos. But when she walks in, her hair is damp, like she showered in a hurry, and her sweater smells faintly like Mark’s cologne—the cedarwood one he always wears.

'You okay?' I ask, watching her avoid my eyes as she kicks off her shoes.

'Yeah, just tired,' she says, forcing a smile. 'Long day.'

I nod, but my gut twists. Earlier today, I drove past their house. His car was gone, but her bike was in the garage. And the blinds in the guest room—they were closed. That room hasn’t been used since he moved in.

She sits beside me, closer than usual, her hand finding mine 'I miss us,' she whispers. 'I miss how it used to be.'

But I can’t shake the feeling that she’s not talking about us at all.