My phone buzzes, pulling me out of my flu-induced haze. Groaning, I squint at the screen. It’s my best friend, Maya:
Maya: Did you and Alex break up??
I frown, blinking hard to make sure I’m reading that right.
Kylie: What?
Kylie: Why would you ask that?
Her response comes almost immediately, the words so blunt they make my stomach drop.
Maya: He just walked into the party I’m at with another girl.
The air feels like it’s been sucked out of my lungs. I read the message again, hoping I somehow misunderstood.
Because Alex wouldn’t do that to me. We’re engaged. He put a ring on my finger, for God’s sake! My hands shake as I try to type.
Kylie: Are you sure it’s him?
Maya: 100%
Maya: They’re all over each other.
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. How could he? After everything we’ve been through together…how could he do this to me? My chest tightens, and before I can think about what I’m doing, I’m throwing off the blankets and stumbling out of bed.
Another text from Maya comes in as I’m grabbing my sneakers.
Maya: Maybe she’s just a friend?
A bitter laugh escapes my lips. Yeah, right. Alex doesn’t have female friends. Just women he’s slept with or plans to. He was such a player before I met him, but I actually thought he changed.
My stomach lurches as I think of all the times he held me close. Whispered promises in my ear that he’d never hurt me. How he swore I was the only one. The way he’d look at me like I was his whole world and nothing else mattered.
I grab my keys, ignoring the ache in my muscles and the sharp, dizzying pain behind my eyes.
He told he was hanging out with the guys tonight. That they were keeping things low-key.
Lies. All of it.
How could I be so stupid?
I can just picture him now. His dark, wicked stare. His easy, devastating smile. It’s a combination that makes you forget how to breathe.
Flu or no flu, I have to see what’s going on for myself. My phone buzzes one last time with another text from Maya:
Maya: Kylie, I know what you’re thinking. Don’t do it. You’re sick.
I know she’s trying to protect me, but it’s too late. I’m already out the door.
If Alex is cheating, I need to look him in the eyes.
Make him squirm.
Make him choke on whatever excuse he’s prepared…
And let him know that he just lost the best thing he ever had.
I drive like a woman possessed. My hands are clenched around the steering wheel, digging my engagement ring into my skin.
My mind is a blur of fury, disbelief, and a sick, hollow feeling of betrayal gnaws at my insides.
We’ve talked about our future, about kids, about growing old together. And now he’s out there throwing it all away?
The fucking nerve.
I grip the steering wheel even tighter. I can’t stop imagining him with another girl. Laughing with her. Touching her. Acting like I don’t exist.
The flu has my head swimming, but red-hot anger is fueling me now.
I push my foot on the gas, breaking the speed limit.
The Sinclair Mansion finally comes into view, all grand and glowing like something out of a movie. Of course he’s here, at one of the fanciest parties in town, making a spectacle of himself.
I park haphazardly and march straight to the entrance. The doorman doesn’t even stop me. He must see the fire in my eyes and think better of it.
The moment I step inside, the noise hits me—music, laughter, chatter. Everyone here is dressed to impress. I probably stick out like a sore thumb in my hoodie and sweats, but I could care less.
I scan the room, my eyes darting over faces until I find him.
There he is.
Lounging at a poker table like he owns the place. He has a cigar in one hand, and a girl sitting on his lap. She’s topless and whispering something in his ear.
I gasp, feeling like I’m going to be sick, but I swallow it down and force myself forward.
Alex wins his poker round, and the girl leans in, sweeping up his winnings. He takes a slow drag of his cigar, savoring it, like he hasn’t got a care in the world.
“Looks like it’s my night, fellas!” he announces, grinning.
I can’t breathe. My chest tightens as I watch the girl lick his ear while he just smirks, giving her a playful slap on the ass before leaning in to kiss her. Full-on, deep, and unashamed.
My stomach churns, and a sick realization washes over me—I can’t remember the last time he kissed me like that. Like he actually wanted to.
Was it weeks ago? Months? I try to replay our last kiss in my head, but all I see is a blur of awkward pecks and forced smiles. Every time I tried to initiate sex, he made an excuse about work or being tired.
Maybe this is why.
He hasn’t been kissing me because he’s been kissing someone else.
My heart shatters, but I don’t cry. Instead, something dark and fierce rises inside me. I walk up to him, my hands trembling, and stop just short of the table.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He looks up at me and his grin falters. His expression flashes with shock, maybe even worry, but it’s gone as fast as it came. Then he straightens and his face goes blank. Like I’m nothing more than an interruption.
“What are you doing here?” he asks casually. “I thought you were sick.”
The girl giggles, her eyes trailing over me with a smug, mocking look.
“Ewww, she does look sick,” she says, and I recognize her now—Eliza, one of his assistants.
Sleek, platinum-blonde hair that falls like a curtain down her back. Flawless makeup highlighting sharp cheekbones, and a tight, glittering skirt clings to her like a second skin. A streak of a bra barely covers her nipples. Her painted lips curve into a cruel smile.
She’s enjoying this. She wants to humiliate me.
I take a step closer, my voice low but full of venom. “Congratulations Alex, you just made the biggest mistake of your life.