The following week, I found myself alone at the kitchen table again, the kids at school and Alex at work. I took a deep breath and opened the laptop, intent on uncovering more about Jordan. The search was simple enough, and soon I was scrolling through social media profiles, piecing together a narrative of Alex’s past.
Jordan was more than just a friend; the photos and comments revealed a history that Alex had never mentioned. There were pictures of them together at various events, their smiles genuine and intimate. The realization was like a punch to the gut—a hidden chapter of Alex’s life that intersected with our present in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
As I clicked through the photos, something in me shifted. I felt a strange mix of betrayal and empathy. Alex had never been one to share much about past relationships, but this was different. This was current, present, and potentially devastating.
I closed the laptop, feeling the weight of what I had discovered. The truth was out there, waiting to be confronted. I had to decide how to move forward, but the path was far from clear.
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