Standing in the doorway of my fiancé’s bedroom, I know I should be shocked and angry but I can’t even work myself up to surprise. Aria tried to warn me this was happening, but I wouldn’t listen to her. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to believe that after everything that’s happened over the last ten months he would do something like this to me. Was “the accident” as he refers to it not enough of a blow? Now, I have to deal with this too?

Without saying a word, I back out of his bedroom and pull the door closed. Does it make me a coward that I didn’t interrupt him and the buxom blonde on top of him? Even if it does, I’m past the point of even giving a damn. I’ve been numb for months now. Numb to everything, everyone, and every situation.

Making my way silently through his apartment, I pick up the things that mean the most to me. I grab the blanket my grandmother made for me when I was little - it always made more sense for it to be here, I spent most of my time at his apartment once we were engaged. Stopping in the kitchen, I pick up the “Journalists do it on deadline” mug that Aria got me for my birthday last year, and after grabbing a few more things, I realize the noise in the bedroom has stopped. Knowing I don’t have long before someone interrupts me, or just finds me and forces me to deal with this, I practically sprint for the door.

Coming home to my upscale Manhattan apartment that I hate but my mother pays for; I lean my head back against the door and close my eyes. I just want to go back and restart this god-awful day. The past year has brought a few ups, a lot of downs, and heartaches that can break a person just by having to experience one of them. Me? I’m so lucky I get to experience them all one after the other like a row of dominoes falling into each other. I never used to understand why people would decide they didn’t want to go on living, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned this year, it’s that the whole “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle” platitude thrown around by people who have never been through what you have, is a load of crap. Because, if that’s the case, he obviously thinks I’m a bad ass.

Once I’ve calmed my breathing, I head into the living room and sit down on the couch to call my sister. I’m sure she’s been expecting this phone call since she left my apartment earlier this afternoon. Aria answers the phone before the first ring even finishes, “Lyric? Are you okay?”

“How long have you known?” There should be some kind of anger in my voice, right? It shouldn’t sound so flat, so lifeless.

She sighs, her next words come fast, like she’s trying to reassure me. “I saw them at a cafe on Lexington this morning. I swear Lyric, that’s the first time I knew anything.” Well, at least my sister didn’t keep it a secret. She was over here at lunch to tell me about it. “I’m guessing you confronted him then?”

“No A, I didn’t get the chance to confront him.” Not that I’m sure I would have anyway. “I went over to his apartment and when I walked in, I could hear them in the bedroom. After I saw it for myself, I grabbed some of my stuff on my way out.”

“Seriously, Lyric? You didn’t do or say anything? You didn’t rip him a new one, or beat her ass? You saw them in bed together and just left?!” She sounds really confused, but I don’t know how to explain my reaction to her. I know the normal response to finding your fiancé in bed with another woman is not to calmly gather your things and leave, but that’s exactly what I did.

“Why would I fight her? “Why should I fight for him? For all I know, she knows nothing about me.” I don’t get how this is the girl’s fault. Matt’s the one at fault in this situation.

Aria lets out a frustrated groan, making me roll my eyes, “Do I need to send Edward and Phillip to talk to him?”

I don’t hold back the snort at that mental picture. “Talking” is so not what she means. And while my stepbrothers are awesome, they aren’t exactly the uber-macho type. Well, Edward isn’t at any rate. He’d probably refuse to punch him because he might ruin his suit. If he did, his wife Grace would probably kill him. I don’t even think she lets their two kids get dirty. Phillip would probably beat him down though. He’s extremely protective over Aria, Kaitlin and I. Kaitlin’s starting her freshman year at NYU later this month, and I fully expect Phillip to follow her around growling at every guy who looks in her direction.

To answer Aria’s question though, “No, sending the two of them over there won’t accomplish anything. I’ll handle it.”

“Right. Sure you will,” Aria sounds beyond skeptical, but I need to do this my way.

We talk for a few more minutes, mainly about my last semester in college. I ended up taking a semester off after everything happened last year, so instead of graduating last spring, I’ll be graduating around Christmastime. Finally, I’m able to get my sister off the phone. I sit on the couch staring blankly at the TV and look into my empty eyes reflected back in the blank, black screen.