Chapter 9 · The Honeymoon Betrayal

This time, it wasn't Michael; it was Lily.

I didn't want to look, but against my better judgment, I still opened it.

Lily: [Claire, are you alright? I'm really sorry about what happened at the airport today; it was all my fault for being so careless and making you and Mike fight. He was really upset, but I know he still cares about you deep down.

[Please don't stay mad; just get a ticket and come to Cyvera, okay? It's so warm here, and the ocean is unbelievably blue. Mike took me to the seafood market, and he said he'll take me diving tomorrow.]

She sent a pic too. Cyvera's sky and ocean were crazy blue in the background, Lily rocking an oversized sun hat and shades, holding a coconut, flashing a big, sugary smile for the camera.

Michael wasn't even in the shot, but the flex and the attitude were so obvious that it practically oozed out of the screen.

Diving?

Michael never even asked if I liked diving.

He only ever cared about what Lily wanted.

I gripped my phone so hard my knuckles turned white.

The wind off the river slapped my face, icy and sharp, but it still couldn't compare to the chill in my heart and the nausea twisting in my gut.

She knew exactly what she'd done; she was the one who kicked off this whole circus.

Now she was acting all fake and trying to play peacemaker, but every sentence was just "Mike took me" or "Mike said", like she couldn't wait for me to know how happy they were on their little honeymoon together.

I could practically picture her face as she sent that message, wearing that smug, fake-innocent look.

Back then, I'd get angry, feel hurt, and go running to Michael to ask him why.

And Michael would always say, "Lily meant well. She's just naive and speaks her mind. Can't you stop thinking the worst of her?"

Right, she's "innocent," she's "just blunt."

So she gets to cross the line over and over, stir up trouble between me and Michael, and always bask in his unconditional support and protection.

And me? I was always the one getting blamed for being immature, petty, and making a fuss about everything.

I stared at the message Lily sent me, and that glaring photo. Suddenly, I wasn't angry anymore.

It wasn't worth getting worked up over someone like her.

I couldn't wake someone who was determined to stay asleep.

I didn't bother replying. I just long-pressed the message and deleted it.

Then I opened my camera, adjusted the angle, and made sure to capture the magnificent frozen river, the dazzling city lights in the distance, and that streak of brilliant sunset on the horizon.

I snapped a photo.

No filters, no touch-ups, just the real, icy vastness of the North, raw and unfiltered.

I opened my Moments and started typing: [Traveling solo can be just as amazing.

[The ice and snow here really live up to the hype. Tried the crispy sweet-and-sour pork, so good. Can't wait to explore more tomorrow. And to certain people, no need for fake concern. I've always seen through your performance.]

I set it so only a few people could see, then hit send.

I knew Lily would see it.

And I knew, with her personality, seeing me not falling apart or begging Michael, but actually 'enjoying' my trip and even taking a jab at her, would drive her crazy. She'd definitely find a way to stir things up and exaggerate in front of Michael.

But so what?

Michael would still take her word for it, like he always does.

I was done caring.

After posting, I slipped my phone back into my pocket, shoved my hands into my down jacket, and walked slowly along the river, braving the biting wind.

Chapter 9

This time, it wasn't Michael; it was Lily.

I didn't want to look, but against my better judgment, I still opened it.

She sent a pic too. Cyvera's sky and ocean were crazy blue in the background, Lily rocking an oversized sun hat and shades, holding a coconut, flashing a big, sugary smile for the camera.

Michael wasn't even in the shot, but the flex and the attitude were so obvious that it practically oozed out of the screen.

Diving?

Michael never even asked if I liked diving.

He only ever cared about what Lily wanted.

I gripped my phone so hard my knuckles turned white.

The wind off the river slapped my face, icy and sharp, but it still couldn't compare to the chill in my heart and the nausea twisting in my gut.

She knew exactly what she'd done; she was the one who kicked off this whole circus.

I could practically picture her face as she sent that message, wearing that smug, fake-innocent look.

Back then, I'd get angry, feel hurt, and go running to Michael to ask him why.

And Michael would always say, "Lily meant well. She's just naive and speaks her mind. Can't you stop thinking the worst of her?"

Right, she's "innocent," she's "just blunt."

So she gets to cross the line over and over, stir up trouble between me and Michael, and always bask in his unconditional support and protection.

And me? I was always the one getting blamed for being immature, petty, and making a fuss about everything.

I stared at the message Lily sent me, and that glaring photo. Suddenly, I wasn't angry anymore.

It wasn't worth getting worked up over someone like her.

I couldn't wake someone who was determined to stay asleep.

I didn't bother replying. I just long-pressed the message and deleted it.

Then I opened my camera, adjusted the angle, and made sure to capture the magnificent frozen river, the dazzling city lights in the distance, and that streak of brilliant sunset on the horizon.

I snapped a photo.

No filters, no touch-ups, just the real, icy vastness of the North, raw and unfiltered.

I opened my Moments and started typing: [Traveling solo can be just as amazing.

I set it so only a few people could see, then hit send.

I knew Lily would see it.

But so what?

Michael would still take her word for it, like he always does.

I was done caring.

After posting, I slipped my phone back into my pocket, shoved my hands into my down jacket, and walked slowly along the river, braving the biting wind.