Chapter 1
The night before our wedding, I found pics of some other girl on my fiancé Jonathan Reed's phone.
She had this really sweet smile and looked so full of life. Most of them were candid shots.
I wasn't about to sit there and torture myself over it. I shoved the phone right in his face and demanded an explanation.
Jonathan chain-smoked in the living room all night. Then, early in the morning, he finally came into the bedroom.
He told me, "Look, I admit it. I kinda have a thing for her. But that's it."
Jonathan and I had been together for ten years. I couldn't just throw all that away over some pictures.
So, I put on my wedding dress and went through with the wedding.
But right in the middle of the ceremony, Jonathan's assistant, Eric, just burst in.
He shouted, "Mr. Reed! Ms. Linwood found out you were getting married... She killed herself."
Jonathan's hand froze as he was about to put the ring on my finger. The diamond clattered to the floor.
He bolted for the door.
With tears in my eyes, I screamed at his back, "If you get out that door right now, we are done. For good!"
He froze for a split second, but he left the wedding anyway.
*****
My heart just seized as I scrolled through endless photos of that girl on Jonathan's phone.
None of them were of him with her, acting all cozy or anything. They were all just her.
In some, she was working, her eyes just sparkling.
In others, she was eating and made this little pouty face, like she was fake-mad.
In another, she must've just gotten a bonus, because she was laughing, totally carefree.
Most of them looked like they were snapped on the fly.
But there were a few where she was looking right at the camera, making a cute, pouty face.
The old me would've stormed right up to Jonathan and thrown that phone in his face. Then I would've dumped him on the spot and never looked back.
But this was different. Tomorrow was supposed to be the finish line for our ten-year marathon.
We were finally making it. We were getting married.
We'd told all our friends and family, booked the venue, and sent out the invitations.
Our happy ending was right there.
And then I found this, at the worst possible second.
I just couldn't process it. I blinked back the tears and took a long, shaky breath.
I decided to confront him. He owed me an explanation.
Jonathan was a brilliant man.
He was young, but he was already the chief engineer at a missile research institute.
We'd been through everything together for ten years. I knew what kind of man he was.
When I laid his phone out in front of him, pictures and all, he didn't even seem surprised.
I figured he probably wasn't even trying to hide it.
We both just survived that long, eight-hour night.
He chain-smoked two whole packs in the living room. I just stared out the bedroom window, watching the stars all night.
Early the next morning, before my makeup artist even got there, Jonathan walked into the bedroom to come clean.
He said, "Her name is Claire Linwood. She's my assistant.
"Look, I admit it. I kinda have a thing for her. But that's it."
My heart crashed down from where it'd been dangling all night.
Jonathan quickly added, "But, Nina, it wasn't easy for us to get here. I'm transferring her off my team. I swear to you, nothing like this will ever happen again."
He gave me his word, and he sounded like he meant it.
In ten years, he'd never broken a promise to me.
I couldn't throw away ten years. And I really couldn't throw away this relationship, especially since I was already pregnant with our baby.
So, I chose to forgive him.
We were at the altar, and the officiant asked Jonathan, "Do you take Nina Wilson to be your wife? To love her, to comfort her, honor and protect her, as long as you both shall live?"
My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would break right out of my chest.
I was waiting for him to say "I do" and give us our happy ending.
Then, Eric burst in with the news, and Jonathan just dropped the diamond ring. It clattered onto the cold, hard floor.
Everyone just stared as Jonathan bolted out of the room.
He left me.
He broke his promise.