"You should tell your boyfriend about us, Amanda. And soon. There's no sense dragging this out. The longer it goes on, the more it's going to hurt him," Ross said, his voice low but firm.
He was sitting back against the sofa, legs slightly spread, watching her with that calm, unreadable look he always wore when they touched on something serious.
They were already a month into their secret relationship—if it could even be called that—and the line they were toeing had long since disappeared.
Amanda stood by the window, arms folded, her thoughts churning.
Her boyfriend, Chris, was due back in a few days.
She had told herself—lied to herself—that this was just a mistake, a moment of weakness.
But a month had passed. And here she was, not wanting it to end.
"I know," she whispered, barely loud enough to be heard. She exhaled slowly, the weight of her guilt sitting heavy in her chest. "I'll take care of it."
