**Diary Entry**
I always believed in second chances. I thought if love was real, it would find a way through the pain, the pride, and the mistakes. So when Mark—my ex—reached out after two years of silence, something inside me stirred. A mix of excitement, nostalgia, and fragile hope filled the air around me.
Our breakup had been messy—hurtful words, misunderstandings, stubborn pride on both sides. I spent months nursing the wounds, learning to breathe again. I even dated someone new, tried to move forward. But Mark… he lingered in the back of my mind like a scar that never quite faded. So when he suggested meeting up—just to talk—I agreed. Naively, I thought it might be something good. Just two adults reconnecting. What could go wrong?
We met at a cosy café tucked away near Baker Street. I arrived early, and when he walked in, my heart gave a hard thud. There he was—same confident stride, same hint of stubble, same warm, familiar gaze. He smiled, hugged me. For a moment, I felt like I’d slipped back into the past, when everything was simpler.
We talked for hours. Small things first—work, life, how we’d been. His voice was soft, his eyes thoughtful, like he genuinely cared how I’d been getting on without him. And I, like a fool, melted. I even dared to hope that maybe something was still there—if not love, then friendship, at least.
But then… something shifted.
He leaned back in his chair, grimaced, looked away as if wrestling with himself. A prickle of unease ran through me. Then he spoke.
“Emily… I need to tell you something. It’s been eating at me. You deserve the truth.”
“What’s wrong?” My voice wavered. “You’re scaring me.”
He exhaled, rubbed his temples, and finally met my eyes.
“I didn’t reach out to get back together. I don’t want that. All this…” He gestured between us. “It wasn’t because I missed you.”
My stomach dropped.
“Then why?” I whispered.
A beat of silence. Then the blow.
“I’m using you, Emily. To get back at your sister. Charlotte.”
The ground tilted beneath me.
“What? You… what did you just say?”
“Your sister—she betrayed me,” he said coldly. “Made me believe she loved me. Then she started seeing someone else behind my back. Played me for a fool. Now I’m playing her. You’re just… the easiest way to do it.”
I couldn’t speak. Charlotte—my best friend, the one person I trusted most—how could she? And Mark… had every kind word, every lingering look been a lie?
“What did she do?” My voice was barely audible.
“She was with me. Then she laughed about it later,” he spat, eyes dark. “You’ve no idea how much that hurt. So now… I want her to feel it too.”
My chest constricted.
“You’re hurting me just to get to her? Why? I never did anything to you!”
“I know. I’m sorry. But it’s the only way. She needs to understand what she’s done.”
Tears burned. Shame, pain, betrayal—it all coiled inside me.
“You played with my feelings,” I choked out. “I actually thought… I hoped…”
He looked away.
“I am sorry, Emily. Truly. But I was hurting too. Lost. I didn’t know how else to cope.”
I stood abruptly, hands shaking.
“Enough. I won’t be part of this revenge. I’m not a pawn. And I won’t let you break my heart again—not for something I didn’t even do.”
He didn’t stop me. Just sat there, head down. I walked away—cold air biting my cheeks, tears streaming—one question looping in my mind: *How could I have been so blind?*
Never again. I won’t be anyone’s bargaining chip. Not for Mark. Not for Charlotte. Not for anyone. Lies wrapped in love are still lies. And I choose the truth—even when it cuts deepest.
