Chapter 2

The Martinez family home stood quiet in the Miami suburbs, its familiar Spanish architecture a beacon of comfort in Chloe's storm of emotions. She sat in her car for ten minutes before finding the strength to walk to the front door. Her mother, Elena, opened it before Chloe could even knock. One look at her daughter's face told her everything. "My love," Elena whispered, pulling Chloe into her arms. "What happened?" Chloe collapsed into her mother's embrace, the tears she'd been holding back finally breaking free. "Julian... he... Mom, he..." "Shh, come inside." Elena guided her daughter through the door, calling out, "Roberto! Come quick!" Chloe's father appeared from his study, reading glasses perched on his nose. His face darkened at the sight of his daughter's tears. "Who do I need to kill?" "Papi, no," Chloe managed a weak smile through her tears. "It's not... I just..." They moved to the living room, where Chloe curled up on the sofa between her parents. Through broken sobs, she told them everything – the anniversary gift, Ava, the two months of lies. "That cerdo!" Elena spat, her accent thickening with anger. "After everything, after we welcomed him into our home!" Roberto's hands clenched into fists. "I knew there was something off about that boy. Always too smooth, too perfect." "I feel so stupid," Chloe whispered, staring at her hands. "Everyone probably knew. The whole building probably knew." "No," Elena stroked her daughter's hair. "The only stupid ones are Julian and that...that..." "Puta," Roberto supplied, earning a sharp look from his wife. "What? It's true." Despite herself, Chloe let out a small laugh. It quickly turned into another sob. "I gave him everything, Mom. A year of my life. And he just..." She couldn't finish the sentence. Elena squeezed her daughter's hand. "Then it's time to take it all back. Starting with every trace of him in your life." Chloe nodded slowly. "The photos..." "I'll get the matches," Roberto said, standing up. Twenty minutes later, they had gathered every photo of Julian from Chloe's old room – the ones she'd kept at her parents' house "just in case." They moved to the backyard, where Roberto had set up an old metal trash can. Chloe held the first photo, taken at South Beach last summer. Julian's arms were around her waist, both of them laughing at something now forgotten. She wondered if he'd been seeing Ava even then. "Burn it," Elena encouraged. "Burn it all." Chloe struck a match. The flame danced in the evening breeze. She held it to the photo's edge, watching as the fire consumed their frozen smiles. "This is for lying to me," she said, dropping the burning photo into the can. Another photo. Another match. "This is for Ava." Match after match, photo after photo, Chloe burned away a year of memories. Some part of her knew she was being dramatic, but the ritual felt necessary. Cleansing. Her phone buzzed. A text from her best friend, Maya: "Girl, where are you? I just heard about Julian and Ava. I'm coming over." "Maya's on her way," Chloe told her parents. Elena nodded approvingly. "Good. You need your friends now." "And your family," Roberto added, putting an arm around his daughter's shoulders. They were burning the last photo when Maya's car screeched into the driveway. She burst into the backyard, carrying two bottles of wine and a determined expression. "B*tch!" Maya declared, setting the bottles down. "I always thought Ava was a snake. Always hanging around, asking about your relationship..." Chloe froze. "Wait, what?" Maya's eyes widened. "I... I didn't want to say anything. She would ask questions about you and Julian, when you worked late, your schedule..." "She was planning it," Chloe realized, her stomach turning. "She was studying our relationship like a... like a..." "Like a predator," Roberto finished grimly. The last photo curled in the flames – Julian at her brother's wedding, looking handsome in his suit. Looking like the man she thought he was, not the liar he turned out to be. Maya opened one of the wine bottles and poured generous glasses for everyone. "To new beginnings," she said, raising her glass. "To self-respect," Elena added. "To better men," Roberto grumbled. "To me," Chloe said firmly, surprising herself. "To never settling for less than I deserve again." They clinked glasses as the Miami night settled around them. The photos were ash now, but Chloe felt lighter. She looked at her family – her real family – and managed her first genuine smile of the day. "Mom?" "Yes, my honey?" "Can I stay here tonight?" Elena kissed her daughter's forehead. "You can stay as long as you need. Your room is always yours." Later that night, after Maya had gone home and her parents had gone to bed, Chloe lay in her childhood bedroom. The walls were still painted the soft yellow she'd chosen at fifteen, covered in old posters and dreams. She picked up her phone one last time, opened Instagram, and unfollowed both Julian and Ava. Then she changed her relationship status to single. "Time to write a new story," she whispered to herself. "And this time, I'll be the hero." She fell asleep to the sound of palm trees rustling outside her window, their gentle whispers carrying away the last echoes of her tears. I n her dreams, Julian's betrayal became nothing but a distant memory – a lesson learned, a bullet dodged, a chapter closed. The pain would fade, like the ashes of those photographs now scattered in the wind. Through her open window, the warm Miami breeze carried the scent of her mother's gardenias, the same ones that had bloomed through every storm of Chloe's life. Their sweet fragrance reminded her of all the times she had risen from defeat, all the strength she'd inherited from generations of fierce Martinez women before her. Tomorrow would be day one of her new life. No more tears for a man who couldn't see her worth. No more doubting herself for someone else's betrayal. She had matches, she had fire, and most importantly, she had herself. That was all she needed to burn away the past and light up her future.