Chapter 1

The wedding champagne was still fresh when my best friend sent me the video.

There was my new husband, doing shots with his "just-a-friend," their arms intertwined like lovers.

By 3 a.m., I watched him collapse onto our rose-petal-covered bed, with her drunkenly wrapped around him.

The beaming wedding portraits on the wall now looked like cruel mockery.

And when I found her designer shampoo in our shower for the third time, I laughed—sharp as broken glass.

*****

I stood before the full-length mirror, giving my wedding gown one final adjustment. The pure white layers spilled across the soft carpet like the petals of a blooming lily.

Today was my wedding day with Eugene Shaw—the moment I'd dreamed of countless times.

"Mrs. Shaw, you look absolutely beautiful today," I murmured to my reflection, unable to stop the smile that rose to my lips.

The reception had ended, and guests were trickling out. Eugene told me his college friends wanted to keep the party going and suggested I head back to our apartment first to rest.

I didn't argue. He'd always put his friends first.

Our new apartment, a wedding gift from Eugene's parents, was a high-rise in the city center. Its floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the glittering city lights below.

I lit scented candles and scattered rose petals in the bathtub, imagining our first night together when Eugene returned.

The bathwater was perfectly warm. Humming to myself, I carefully hung my wedding gown in the closet.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a message from my best friend, Sylvia Lynn. [Winnie, are you okay?]

I was just about to reply when another notification appeared. It was a video.

I tapped play. The noise of a bar cut through the quiet, shattering the room's romantic vibe. On the screen, Eugene and Evelyn Sawyer sat side by side at the counter, arms draped around each other as they raised their glasses.

Eugene was still in his wedding suit, his tie loosened, while Evelyn's crimson dress stood out under the dim lights.

"Share a drink!" someone off-camera cheered.

Eugene smiled and shook his head, but obliged—pushing his glass to the center and adding two straws. They leaned in at the same time, sipping through their separate straws while their foreheads almost touched.

Evelyn drank too fast, liquor dribbling down her chin. Without thinking, Eugene reached out to wipe it away for her. The sight sent a sharp ache through my chest.

The video ended there, and another message from Sylvia popped up. [I just saw this on my feed. It was posted by one of their college friends. Winnie, don't overthink it. It's probably just for fun.]

I stared at the darkened screen, my fingers trembling slightly.

Evelyn—that "just a friend" Eugene was always mentioning—had been his constant companion since college.

I kept telling myself it was nothing, but that crushing weight in my chest just wouldn't go away.

*****

At 3 a.m., after hours of waiting, the jingle of keys finally sounded at the door.

Curled on the couch, I watched as Eugene staggered in, half-carrying a completely wasted Evelyn.

"Babe, you're still up?" he mumbled, his gaze unfocused.

Evelyn slumped against him, her crimson dress wrinkled and her makeup smudged. "Our wedding bed... so comfy..." she slurred, stumbling toward the bedroom.

I stood up, words dying on my lips as Eugene followed Evelyn into the bedroom. I stood there, listening to a heavy thud and muffled laughter from inside.

When I finally mustered the courage to open the door, what I saw chilled me to the bone—Eugene and Evelyn lay tangled together on our wedding bed, his arm wrapped around her waist. They were still in their shoes, drunk and asleep.

On the nightstand, our wedding photo smiled up at me—a heart-wrenching contrast to the scene before me.

I gently closed the door and returned to the living room. Beyond the windows, the city pulsed with light, but my world had gone gray.

Morning light filtered through the curtains as I sat frozen on the couch, phone clutched in my hands. The screen displayed six years of cherished moments with Eugene.

The bedroom door creaked open as Eugene stepped out, rubbing his eyes. "Why did you sleep out here?" he asked.

I looked up at Eugene, my voice choked with emotion. "You shared our bed with Evelyn last night."

Eugene paused briefly, and then waved his hand dismissively. "She was wasted, so I let her crash here. Don't overthink it—nothing happened between us, really."

"Nothing happened?" I stood up abruptly, pointing toward the bedroom. "You and Evelyn shared one drink and then passed out in our wedding bed!"

"It was just a joke toast." Eugene frowned. "Why are you making such a big deal out of it? Evelyn's been my good friend for ten years. If I wanted her, I've had a decade to make a move."

The self-righteousness in his expression drained what little energy I had left. This was supposed to be our first day as newlyweds—yet my husband had just shared our bed with another woman and now had the nerve to say I was overreacting.

"I need to clear my head," I muttered, turning toward the walk-in closet and pulling out a small suitcase.

"Where are you going?" Eugene followed me. "Just over this?"

"Just over this?" I paused, taking a steadying breath. "Eugene, it was our wedding night!"

"I know, but Evelyn's my good friend," he said, scratching his head with a genuinely puzzled look. "What exactly is bothering you?"

In that moment, staring into his utterly sincere yet clueless eyes, I suddenly realized we saw this completely differently. To him, having Evelyn here was perfectly normal, but to me, it crossed every line.

I snapped my suitcase shut, forcing my voice to stay steady. "I'm staying in my old apartment for a few days."

"Fine, whatever," Eugene sighed. "We'll talk when you're being rational."

As I wheeled my suitcase out the door, Evelyn's groggy voice floated from the bedroom. "Eugene, my head is splitting. Could you get me some water?"

"Coming!" Eugene called back right away.

The door closed behind me, sealing away all the hopes I once held for this marriage.