The Sparkling Truth

Our neighborhood was pretty normal. Nothing special, nothing terrible. But we had one problem.

Mark.

Or more specifically, my husband Liam’s never-ending feud with Mark, the guy two houses down.

Liam hated him. Not just mild irritation—full-on, deep-down, *couldn’t-stand-him* hate. And Mark felt the same. Every conversation turned into an argument. If they could avoid each other, they would.

So when they got into another fight—this time over a package that ended up in Mark’s mailbox—I barely reacted. Just another day.

But the next morning?

Oh, I *knew* Mark had taken it to a new level.

Liam’s car was covered in glitter.

I mean *covered.* Like a craft store explosion. Tiny, shiny specks stuck to the windshield, the hood, the door handles—sparkling in the sun, impossible to clean. And, of course, Liam had left early for work, so I was the one stuck dealing with it.

As I scrubbed, grumbling about our ridiculous neighbor, a woman’s voice behind me made me freeze.

*”If I were you, I’d glitter his car too.”*

I turned around, startled.

A woman stood on the sidewalk, arms crossed. Dark sunglasses, auburn hair pulled into a loose ponytail. She looked… familiar.

“Excuse me?” I said, straightening up.

She smirked. “Oh, he deserves it.”

I frowned. “Mark?”

“No.” She took off her sunglasses. “Liam.”

My stomach dropped.

“I—who are you?” I asked.

She took a step closer, lowering her voice. “I’m Olivia. You don’t know me, but I know *him.*”

A chill ran through me. “What does that mean?”

She sighed, glancing at the glitter-covered car. “It means Liam has been lying to you for years. And I think you deserve to know the truth.”

I crossed my arms. “What truth?”

She pulled out her phone, scrolled, and held up the screen. My heart nearly stopped.

There, in front of me, was a picture of *Liam and Olivia.* Together. In what looked like a hotel lobby.

And then another. And another. Liam smiling. Liam kissing her. Liam looking at her the way he used to look at me.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “No… no, this has to be a mistake.”

Olivia’s expression softened. “I thought so too. Until I found out about *you.*”

Tears stung my eyes. “How long?”

She hesitated. Then—“*Three years.*”

The world tilted.

Three. Years.

Liam’s business trips. His “late nights at the office.” The random fights he picked with me over nothing.

And then I realized something. “Wait… what does this have to do with Mark?”

Olivia gave a humorless laugh. “Mark’s my brother.”

The puzzle pieces clicked. My breath caught.

Mark *knew.*

That’s why he hated Liam. That’s why their fights were so vicious. That’s why Mark had finally snapped and covered Liam’s car in glitter—because he couldn’t tell me outright. But he *could* push Liam’s buttons.

I looked back at the sparkling mess, my chest tight with rage.

Olivia sighed. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner. But… I figured you deserved to hear it from me before Liam tried to spin his own version.”

I turned to her, my mind whirling.

Then, I smiled.

“Do you still have that glitter?”