Part 2The Geometry of Three

The moment I opened the front door to my parents' house, my mother, Victoria Bentley, looked up from the sweater she was knitting. My father, Randy Bentley, sat beside her with his headphones on, listening to an old-time radio drama.

At the sound of the door, Mom looked up. The instant she saw my face, the ball of yarn slipped from her hands and fell to the floor.

"Renee? What are you doing? What's wrong? Why do you look so pale?"

Dad yanked off his headphones and hurried over.

The moment I saw the concern and love written all over their faces, the last of the strength that had kept me going finally gave out.

"Dad... Mom..."

My knees buckled, and I sank onto the rug by the front door. Then, like a child who had been hurt beyond repair, I burst into tears. Between broken sobs, I told them everything I had seen at the hospital and showed them the two sickening text messages.

Dad shook with fury. He slammed his palm against the coffee table so hard the cups rattled.

"That scoundrel! That ungrateful lowlife! I'm going to his office right now, and when I'm done with him, he'll wish he'd never been born! And your so-called best friend? We've always treated her like family. How could she do something this despicable?"

Mom wrapped her arms tightly around me, crying as she rubbed my back.

"You've never been treated this way... Divorce him. You have to divorce him. Our family doesn't need a damn thing from his."

I grabbed the hem of Dad's shirt, wiped my tears away with the back of my hand, and shook my head.

"I'm going to divorce him. But I'm not letting him walk away from this without consequences, and I'm not ending my marriage without knowing the whole truth."

When they saw the resolve in my swollen, bloodshot eyes, my parents fell silent. They knew me too well. I had never been someone who could look the other way after being betrayed.

Dad's eyes reddened as he crouched in front of me and stroked my hair.

"All right, Renee. We won't do anything reckless. But remember this: no matter what you decide or how far you want to take it, if the whole world comes crashing down, your mother and I will hold it up for you."

I spent the next three days at my parents' house in a daze.

Then the private investigator I had paid a small fortune delivered a thick manila envelope.

I drew a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for whatever was inside.

I wasn't the only person caught up in this anymore. There was also the ex with whom Maren had supposedly gotten back together.

But when I opened the envelope, the truth hit me like a sledgehammer.

Isaiah was her ex.

I had always known there was a man who had broken Maren's heart, but I had never met him.

She had told me the memories were too painful, so she had deleted everything connected to him and refused to even say his name.

However, on an old private social media account, she had kept more than five years' worth of photos and posts from over a decade ago, preserving every trace of their sweet, innocent young love.

They were childhood sweethearts. From eighteen to twenty-two, they had loved each other with a passion neither of them had ever forgotten.

They had shared an entire history, yet when I first introduced them, they had pretended to be complete strangers.

According to the investigator's report, Isaiah's parents had looked down on Maren's family for being poor and considered her beneath their social standing. They had refused to accept the relationship under any circumstances.

In the photographs, Isaiah's eyes burned with an intensity I had never seen before. He had once stood outside in a torrential downpour for Maren. He had even begged his parents to let them be together.

As independent and resilient as ever, Maren had fought beside him every step of the way.

Unfortunately, his family had done everything they could to humiliate and crush her. They had driven her mother to the brink of taking her own life.

In the end, the two of them were forced apart. She had left town, and he had fallen gravely ill.