Rumors arrived before truth ever did.
At first, they came quietly—half-spoken sentences, careful pauses, looks that lingered too long. Tiana heard Joshua's name in conversations that stopped when she entered a room. Laughter followed her sometimes, light but sharp, like it carried meaning she wasn't meant to understand.
"He's enjoying school," someone said casually.
"Very much," another added, smiling too knowingly.
She brushed it off.
People talked. They always did. Especially about love. Especially about her. Tiana believed trust was louder than rumors, stronger than jealousy. Joshua loved her—hadn't he proven that? Hadn't he chased her when everyone else only watched?
But the whispers grew bolder.
Some of the same boys who once wanted her now laughed openly, their voices dripping with mockery. One evening, one of them finally said what others had only hinted at.
"It wasn't love, Tiana," he said, almost amused. "He just wanted to be the guy who got you."
The words struck deeper than a slap.
They told her about bets made among friends. About Joshua bragging that he would do whatever it took to make her fall. About how dating her had been proof—status—something to show off, not protect.
She refused to believe it.
Joshua had looked at her with warmth. He had spoken with tenderness. He had called her beautiful in ways that felt sincere. Men did not fake devotion for that long, she told herself. They did not say such careful words without meaning them.
That night, she cried alone.
Memories returned uninvited—his voice, low and convincing, telling her how much he admired her strength, her discipline, the way she carried herself. He had told her she was different. That he would never hurt her. That what they shared was precious.
Joshua had been her first.
The first man she trusted with her body, her vulnerability, her innocence. She had given herself believing it was love, believing she was safe. Believing she was cherished.
Now doubt clawed at her chest.
Had it all been a lie?
She remembered how she had run errands just to send him money, how she had sacrificed without hesitation, how she had defended his name when others questioned him. The weight of it crushed her.
Yet even as the truth threatened to surface, Tiana pushed it away.
People can change, she whispered to herself.
And in that whisper, she chose denial over pain.