I watched as my fiancé Andy adjusted his tie, ready to leave again. Lately, it felt like he was always going somewhere, and each time he avoided my gaze, a knot twisted deeper in my stomach.

“Do you really have to go?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay calm.

“Yes, it’s for work. I can’t refuse,” he said quickly, eyes fixed on his reflection rather than on me.

“You seem to be going out for work quite often these days,” I said lightly, though my chest tightened as I waited for his response.

Andy froze for a second, then turned, his expression sharp. “What are you implying?”

“Nothing,” I replied, backing off. “Just stating a fact.”

But inside, suspicion gnawed at me. Andy was always texting someone, slipping away, his excuses multiplying like shadows in the dark.

When he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of the shower soon filling the air, my chest burned with a question I couldn’t silence: Who are you really meeting, Andy?

Then it happened. His phone buzzed on the nightstand. My pulse spiked. My hands shook as I reached for it. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself. I knew his password. And with trembling fingers, I unlocked it.

What I found nearly made me drop the phone.

The message was from a group chat titled “Andy and Kira.”

Kira. My best friend.

My stomach lurched. My name wasn’t there. Instead, I saw Andy, Kira… and my mom, my sister, and my brother. What the hell?

I scrolled up, desperate for answers. The earliest message was from Andy, eight months ago.

Andy: I’m sorry you had to find out about Kira and me like this. But I can’t let Erin know. I love them both and still want to marry Erin…

My breath caught in my throat.

The messages that followed gutted me more than Andy’s betrayal.

Mom (Clarissa): Do you really love Kira?

Andy: Yes.

Scott (my brother): Maybe you should try an open relationship.

Maria (my sister): Yes, it’s very popular now. Many couples live like this.

Andy: We’ve been together too long. Erin would never agree to an open relationship.

Mom: Then we will help you. We’ll help you hide this until you’re ready.

I had to grip the bedpost to keep myself from collapsing. My own family. Not only did they know—they supported it.

Scrolling further, I discovered details that cut like glass. Trips I’d missed when I was sick? They weren’t just family vacations. Andy and Kira had been there together. Smiling. Laughing. Supported by the very people who were supposed to protect me.

The final blow: private messages between Andy and Kira, filled with provocative photos and words that confirmed what I already knew.

I took screenshots of everything, sending them to myself, then carefully deleting the traces from his phone.

By the time Andy stepped out of the shower, humming softly, I had already mastered my mask. He smiled at me, kissed my cheek, and said, “Goodbye, honey. I love you.”

“Me too,” I whispered, my skin crawling.

For days, I lived with the knowledge, the bile of betrayal rising every time Andy touched me. I barely slept, barely ate. Andy even bought me a pregnancy test, worried by my nausea. The thought of carrying his child nearly made me gag.

But I held my silence. Because I had a plan.

The rehearsal dinner was my battlefield.

I scheduled every screenshot to send at 5:30 p.m.—the exact moment dinner would begin. Not just to Andy. Not just to Kira. But to everyone: both families, our friends, even Kira’s parents. No one would be able to look away from the truth.

When I arrived at the restaurant, my mother rushed to hug me. Her perfume suffocated me.

“You have no idea how happy I am for you and Andy,” she said warmly.

I forced a smile. “Yes, me too.”

The place was stunning—soft lights, flowers, laughter bouncing off the walls. Everyone seemed so… happy. It made me sick.

And then 5:30 came.

Around the room, phones began buzzing, screens lighting up like fireflies. Smiles faded into confusion, then horror. Gasps echoed. Forks clattered against plates.

Andy’s face drained of color as he unlocked his phone. My mother’s hand flew to her mouth. Kira’s eyes widened, and she bolted upright from her chair.

I sat calmly, hands folded, watching the chaos unfold.

The truth was finally free.