Part 2My Daughter Died While You Were Cheating

In high school, I was still Sierra Wyatt, the spoiled heiress who had no worries. While my classmates were pulling all-nighters and drowning in stress, I was only interested in painting and partying.

Reid, however, was the polar opposite. He was the undisputed number one student—brilliant, disciplined, and politically adept. At first, I found him utterly pretentious.

Then Blair arrived. She came from a poor background and was fiercely academic, working a job every evening to help her family. I was impressed. I convinced my father to establish a scholarship specifically for students like her.

I wanted to keep it anonymous. But the teacher, in front of the entire class, made a point of announcing my donation and forced Blair to bow and thank me.

Looking back, I believe that public moment of forced gratitude was when Blair started to resent me.

But I was oblivious. I poured my heart out to her, treating her like the sister I never had.

Blair’s biggest aspiration was to beat Reid and claim the number one spot. But Reid was an insurmountable fortress. She was always second.

After yet another loss, Blair broke down crying. To cheer her up, I tried everything I could think of.

“It’s okay,” I’d announced dramatically. “I’ll just start dating Reid! I’ll distract him, ruin his grades, and you can finally win!”

Reid, passing by, scoffed. “Sierra, you’re too clueless. You don't even know how to flirt. Need me to show you how?”

And that’s how we ended up together.

My senior year was the year my life shattered. My father’s business went bankrupt, and he killed himself.

In my deepest despair, Reid and Blair were my anchors. Reid swore he would take over my father’s role, promising to be the one person in the world who would always love me. Blair let me stay in her tiny apartment and worked tirelessly to tutor me.

I pulled myself together. I started studying like my life depended on it, and by the time the SATs arrived, I was confident I could get into a decent college.

Then the accident happened.

Despite checking and double-checking everything, I couldn’t find my No. 2 pencil for the Scantron sheet.

Leaving the testing center, I slapped myself, convinced I was the most utterly worthless person alive.

Again, Reid and Blair were there. They encouraged me until I moved past the trauma. They both went on to Stanton University, the country’s best.

I decided higher education wasn’t for me, so I took a job bussing tables near campus. Reid would come straight from class to help, and soon, customers assumed he was the employee.

He constantly talked about our future. We’d marry right after graduation. He’d earn enough money to buy me the best art supplies and keep me a carefree, sheltered art patron.

But I felt a creeping sense of insecurity.

I begged Blair to keep an eye on Reid for me.

Blair looked at me with an unreadable, deep expression, a forced, unnatural smile pulling at her lips.

I remember feeling smug, thinking I was successfully “showing off” my perfect relationship. I urged her to start dating, too.

“No need,” she’d said. “I already have someone I like.”

It took years to finally understand that smile, and to know exactly who that person was.

It was already too late.