ONE ATLAS A THOUSAND LIVES

Once again, I was right back where I started—in the middle of nowhere.

But this time, it didn’t feel desperate. Honestly? It was a relief. I felt lighter, peaceful even. Like that pure wave of relief you get when you somehow ace a brutally hard exam, or when you drift off to sleep on a balcony during a cool summer evening, with just a soft breeze hitting your face.

By all accounts, I should’ve been drowning in pain right now. I should’ve felt helpless, abandoned, absolutely furious. At least, that’s what was expected of me. But who knows? Maybe I’d finally grown up. Or maybe, deep down, this was exactly what I wanted.

For the first time in my life, I had willingly, with my own two hands, invited betrayal in.

Normally, something like this would’ve crushed me. I’d be gasping for air, wishing the pain would just stop. Instead, there was this heavy, unbelievable calm sitting right in the middle of my chest. It felt like I’d finally stepped out of a relentless downpour, or scrubbed away a stubborn stain that had been stuck to me for way too long.

The messed-up part was that nothing about this was normal.

For a whole year, my absolute best friend—my roommate, my confidante, the girl I’d shared a room, a classroom, and the same damn air with for three years; Helen, who was closer to me than a sister—had been sleeping with my boyfriend behind my back.

I’d sensed it from day one. I just couldn't bring myself to believe it.

The reality check came when another friend, Clara, spotted the two of them at a hotel barely three kilometers from our place and called me.

"Hey sweetie!" she said, sounding all excited. "I just ran into our guys, but I couldn't find you. Are you already upstairs? We're down in the lobby, and they just got into the elevator. Any chance you can come down? I have your pharmacology notes with me, figured I'd give them to you since I'm here."

My heart did a freefall.

"Me?" I stammered. "What... where am I?"

Completely clueless about what she’d just tripped over, Clara laughed.

"At the Santa Hotel, silly. I assume you're in the room. The guys just headed up to join you."

I forced my voice to steady out.

"Oh... right. Yeah. I'm there. I mean, I'll be there soon. Thanks for telling me."

"What about the notes?" she asked.

"Just hang onto them for now," I said, and hung up.

As I put the phone down, I realized something: I’d already mourned this betrayal months ago. There was no shock left. No grief. No fear. I just wanted it over with. The emotions that used to tear me apart had burned themselves out, leaving nothing behind.

Without wasting another second, I went straight to the Santa Hotel. I got their room number from the front desk with some stupid little lie about planning a surprise, and took the stairs up.

I expected to stand outside knocking forever. Instead, the door swung open almost instantly.

Standing there was Berk. My boyfriend of two years. The guy I was supposed to marry after graduation. He was half-naked.

The second he registered it was me, every single drop of color drained from his face. Watching him turn pale with pure panic was just pathetic. Up until yesterday, I thought I loved him. Tonight, I’d never felt more disgusted by another human being.

And then there was Helen...

Three years of sharing everything. My roommate. My sister. The one person I trusted blindly. She must’ve thought the knock was room service, because she called out from inside without a care in the world:

"Babe, come on, what's taking so long? Haven't you missed me enough yet?"

Berk’s voice was shaking.

"Look... please, just let me explain. There's a reason for this, I swear."

Before he could get another word out, Helen’s voice got closer as she walked toward the door.

"What? Who are you talking to?"

She stepped into the hallway, trying to tie the belt of this thin robe she’d thrown on. The moment our eyes met, all that confidence just drained out of her. Her knees literally gave out. She almost hit the floor.

"N-No..." she whispered. "This... I... Please, it's not what it looks like. I would never do this to you. I just..."

"Both of you," I said, cutting her off before she could even finish. "Listen to me very carefully. Don't think I just found out about this today. I've known for a year. Or rather... I've felt it for a year. I didn't say anything—not because I didn't see the signs, but because I loved you both more than I loved myself. Because I was terrified of being wrong. Terrified of hurting the people I cared about most."

"But piece by piece, I buried both of you inside me. Deep down, I knew my gut wasn't lying. I couldn't leave, and I couldn't confront you, because I knew this day would come eventually."

"No secret stays hidden forever. And tonight, yours finally caught up with you."

"I didn't come here for an explanation. I came to say goodbye. You taught me a lot during these university years. Unfortunately, the biggest lesson you taught me was what betrayal looks like. I'm not even angry with you anymore. I'm just disgusted."

"For the sake of whatever good days we actually shared, our families—and mine—will never hear about this mess. But from this exact moment on... I never want to see either of you again."

Berk lunged toward me.

"Please... just give me one second to talk to you."

Behind him, Helen completely broke down, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry..." she cried. "I'm a horrible person. I know I am. But please... don't leave me."

By then, I’d already stepped into the elevator, carried by this strange sense of freedom that was growing stronger with every passing second. Just as the doors started to slide shut, a hand shot out between them, forcing them back open.

Berk stood there,

"I'm so sorry..." she cried. "I'm a horrible person. I know I am. But please... don't leave me."

By then, I’d already stepped into the elevator, carried by this strange sense of freedom that was growing stronger with every passing second. Just as the doors started to slide shut, a hand shot out between them, forcing

Berk stood there, panting, quickly trying to fix his clothes. I expected him to beg for forgiveness. Instead, he said something that shocked me more than anything else that had happened that night.