He Left Me To Die In The Fire

It was the summer of 1980, and Aliya Ross had already lost her father. Now, she was losing her mother too.

At the funeral, just as Aliya moved to place her mother’s urn in its resting place, her fiancé, Santana Gray, dropped a bombshell: “I’m marrying Jessica.”

Aliya froze, sure she must have misheard. “What… did you just say?”

Santana barely spared her a glance. His eyes stayed locked on Jessica, who stood nearby, filled with unmistakable tenderness. “It started a year ago, right after your mom’s diagnosis. I told you I was away on business, but really, I was at the Alpine Retreat with Jessica.”

“It was her first time. She was so shy, so nervous… she kept worrying you’d hear.”

“She’s just so damn sweet. I couldn’t help but feel responsible for her.”

Aliya’s head spun. The color drained from her face.

Santana didn’t seem to notice. His voice took on a wistful edge. “Last night, while you were sobbing your heart out in the chapel, we were right there—behind those draped banners.”

“I told you I was coming down with a cold. Truth is, she nearly… we almost lost control.”

The night before, Santana had stayed by her side through the vigil, soaked in sweat. She’d thought he was sick, told him to go home and rest. She’d said, “I appreciate it. Mom would want you to take care of yourself, too.”

The truth crashed over Aliya like a tidal wave of ice, nearly knocking her off her feet right there in the middle of her grief.

Jessica was the first to notice how pale Aliya had gone. She rushed to her side, eyes brimming with fake concern. “Oh no, are you okay? You look awful.”

“Santana is so careless. Look at you, you’re falling apart and he doesn’t even see it. Is he really fit to be your fiancé?”

It was summer, but Jessica had a scarf wrapped around her neck. Aliya had noticed it before and felt bad for her.

Jessica had said they were up so late for the vigil and she’d accidentally hit her neck. Aliya had actually felt guilty about it.

Now, she ripped the scarf off with one sharp jerk. Beneath, the hickeys were impossible to miss.

The image burned in her mind—last night, right there in front of her mother’s chapel, her fiancé and her best friend.

Jessica panicked, tried to cover up, but Aliya grabbed her wrist in an iron grip.

“He’s not fit to be my fiancé. So, is he fit to be yours?”

Aliya gritted her teeth, her eyes blazing red. “Jessica, you screwed my fiancé right in front of my mother’s shrine. Did you get off on that?”

“My mom treated you like her own daughter when she was alive. She practically gave her life to save you from your abusive dad. And this is how you pay her back? Don’t you have a conscience? Aren’t you terrified of karma biting you in the ass?”

Jessica went pale as a ghost, instinctively turning to Santana. “You told her? Why today? We agreed to wait…”

“We agreed to wait until she was more stable,” Santana cut in. “But I couldn’t stand seeing you suffer like this anymore.”

“Mrs. Ross helped you, so you’ve always let Aliya walk all over you. Even falling for me—you had to hide it. That’s not fair, baby.”

Fair? Her cheating fiancé and the woman who slithered into their relationship were actually talking about fairness?

Jessica, flustered, moved in front of Aliya. “Aliya, please don’t hate me. You’re my best friend, and Mrs. Ross was like a mother to me. I really do love Santana. I’ve never asked you for anything. Just this once… please, just give us your blessing.”

A white-hot rage nearly swallowed her whole. She struck out with a slap.

The sharp crack of flesh on flesh rang through the room.

But it didn’t land on Jessica.

The guests, already mourning, turned at the commotion. Santana quickly shooed them out, one side of his face burning bright red.

Once they were alone, Santana’s voice exploded, low and furious. “We’ve been more than considerate of your feelings. How much longer are you going to keep causing a scene?”

Aliya’s composure finally cracked wide open.

Twenty years of shared history flooded back. The time she fell out of a tree and he caught her. The night she ran away and he followed, just to keep her safe. Her first period—he’d slid his jacket under her seat without a word. Their first kiss, when he’d taught her how to breathe… Santana had been stitched into every part of her life. He’d sworn under the stars to protect her, always.

She raised her other hand, no holds barred. “But you were supposed to be my fiancé!”

This time, Jessica shielded Santana.

“But after all the rumors going around, did you really expect Santana to kick up a fuss and still marry you?”