Bi_jou11
My name is Stella Alston. For the last three years, I believed I was living a charmed life with Marcus Carmichael. He was the golden heir of a powerful corporate dynasty, and I was the unassuming artist he adored.
Our relationship was a contradiction I never questioned: intense, passionate, and yet strangely... inconsistent. Sometimes, Marcus was the comforting, deeply devoted man who remembered every detail of my life, spent hours discussing my art, and held me through my darkest insecurities. He was tender and attentive.
Other times, the shift was subtle but palpable. He would be cold, emotionally distant, and strangely dismissive of our past conversations. He'd insist on keeping certain parts of his life-his family, his work-completely separate, citing a need for "professional distance." I attributed it to the stress of his corporate life, the weight of his family name. I accepted the distance, believing I was the grounding force in his chaotic world.
I didn't know the man I loved was actually two men.