"What is it?" I asked, suspicious at the way he words cut through thin air and silenced our bliss.

I was anxious. What was he going to tell me? Out of all of the things I could imagine, the fear that it was going to wreck us apart was nerve-wrenching. My stomach was doing back-flips and bile was snaking at back of my throat.

"It's...difficult to explain this," he said, swallowing hard as he sat up and rested his body against the headboard. I followed slightly, dragging the cover with me to at least appear decent in which seemed to be the start of a serious conversation. "So, there's reason why I pursued you," he added after remaining silent for two minutes.

"What do you mean by that?" I frowned, unsure whether I wanted to remain sitting in his bed or standing.

"I-I—you reminded me of someone," he replied, sighing gently as he rubbed his elbow and refusing to look my way.

"Remind you of someone? I-I---"

"Please don't take this the wrong way," he warned, clasping his hands together within his lap, " but you reminded me of my fiancé."

My mouth opened then closed. I was so confused. "But—but your ex-girlfriend, the one on Facebook—"

"No, not her. Before her. I was engaged to this woman called Andrea. We...were pretty smitten with one another. Childhood sweethearts if you want to call it. And then when she turned twenty two, she just disappeared." He paused, taking a huge suck of air. "And then...the police just turned up one day. I remember seeing blue and red flashing lights through the blinds. Her father went to the door. They came in and told us...that they found Andrea's body dead in a river, just 7 miles out."

I sat quiet.

"I thought...she got murdered. But...they found a note. I guess you know what that means," he said, rubbing his forehead as he blinked back tears. "And then I met you..." he continued, leaning to the left as he extended his arm to his phone sat resting on the bedside table. His fingers slid hurriedly over the screen before he tapped down. Then he passed it over to me.

Taking it gently from his hands, I held my breath as I prepared myself for whatever he'd wanted me to see. And there is was. An image of a woman which strikingly looked similar to me. I had heard of doppelgangers but now I was more than convinced I had probably found my own. Her hair was the same. Even how her dimples protruded from her cheeks. I could tell Shane was studying my face to decipher my reaction.

"She...does look---"

---"The same?" Shane suggested.

I nodded quietly as I passed him the phone. I wasn't sure how to react or what this exactly meant. Was I even my own individual to him? Or did he just see Andrea every time he looked at me? Did he think I was her?

"I know what you're probably thinking," he muttered, locking his phone and placing it back on the bedside table. "And it's not true...at the start, Rose. Yes. I won't lie, I wanted to know you because you looked so much like her but...once I got to know you. I realised you weren't her," he explained, turning towards me and gently grasping my helpless hands. "You're so much more. Completely different. I fell in love with a beautiful woman. A beautiful woman that I want to spend the rest of my life with." He squeezed my hands reassuringly.

"So...when that old...woman thought I was Andrea, she knew her? And that lipstick? Was that her favourite?" I pried, slowly drawing my hands away from his.

"Y-yeah. Andrea and I would go to that cabin. She knew Doreen and Ed. Doreen suffers from dementia. You must have triggered a memory...I don't know," Shane responded. "But, Rose, you have to believe me. I do see you as your own individual. You're not Andrea. You're Rose. You're smart, funny and incredibly stubborn," he said, pleading within his tone.

"I-I...I'm sorry about what happened to Andrea. It's...just this is difficult to process. I just feel like I can't be sure that you like me for me and not sitting there thinking I'm...her," I returned with honestly.

"I know, I know. But please, you have to believe me, Rose. That's not the case at all. I love you for you. I want to be with you for you. I want to be the man who makes you happy. Andrea is dead. She's gone. Yes, she'll have a part of me always but I want you, and you to have me," he objected, trying again to reach for my hands. They felt limp within his as he pressed his lips onto the knuckles, desperate to convince me.

"I might need some time to think this over. I mean..." I let out a short humourless laugh. "My marriage is in ruins. I should be looking high and low for Nick but I haven't...I've just kinda of let him be. What does that say about me as a person? And now...this. I'm happy you were honest with me. I just---just need some time," I explained, sliding out of the bed and picking up my discarded clothes.

"What are you going to do about Nick?" he meekly asked.

"I-I...have to let him go, don't I?" I whispered, my heart aching at those words leaving my lips. "It's the right thing to do, isn't it?"

"I...can't tell you what to do, Rose. But...yes," he agreed.

I flung my top over my head then pivoted on my bum to face him. "I'll always love him but I can't...keep pretending that things are okay. It's just selfish."

"One day, he'll have to understand," Shane pitched in.

"I hope."

***

Nick didn't return home that night either. Nor Wednesday. Nor Thursday and by the time Friday came, I was becoming more concerned that I was near to phoning the police in search for a 'Missing Person'. And then I received a two word text from him, 'I'm okay.' Was that progress? I had no idea.

At least, I managed to finish my story. It wasn't how I expected for it to end but I'd done it. Peter was at least happy he could have something for the publishers.

I hadn't spoken to Shane since Tuesday. I needed some time to adjust to what he had told me. I couldn't help those paranoid thoughts that made me believe that he was only with me because I reminded him of Andrea, despite his objections towards that.

But there was one person I wanted to be fully clean with even if it meant I cost our friendship.

Angela sat on the couch within my living room. She thanked me as I passed her a glass of water that she had politely asked for. She was being her usual bubbly self, telling me about her day, about their beautiful baby and whether things between me and Nick had gotten better. She didn't know about Nick's disappearance.

"Ang, I need to be honest with you," I began, attracting her full attention.

"Okay, what's up?"

"You were right about something and I selfishly made you feel like you were delusional—"

"---What are you on about, Rose?" She interjected, her bold smile deflating little by little.

"I have been having an affair...with Shane," I confessed, holding my head up high to accept the wave of punishment I knew was coming my way.

Angela didn't say a word. She placed the glass onto the coffee table. It was more frightening when the person you wanted to react, wouldn't in the way you desired. There was more of an eerie silence within the room.

"When..." I swallowed. "When you suspected it, you were right."

Still nothing.

"Ang, please say something. Shout---punch me for I care? I just want---"

"---And give you the satisfaction of feeling sorry for yourself?" She spat hastily. "I just can't believe you...regardless of the affair. You lied to me. You made me feel incredibly bad for accusing you. I—" She broke down, angry tears cascaded down her cheeks. "I loved you like you were my sister. And you have broken my heart," she pointed out, getting to her feet and heading for the front door.

"Ang," I cried, desperately running after her. "Please, I'm sorry. I---"

"---Just stay away from me, Rose," she threatened, leaving my house and storming to the bottom of the driveway.

I deserved to lose a friend.

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