When Haley decides to FaceTime her fiancé, Chris, wanting to clarify a few wedding details, she sees a glimpse of another woman in his sunglasses. Suddenly, everything she thought about her wedding became a nightmare. Haley tracks his location, ready to catch Chris in the act—and when she does, drinks go flying, along with her engagement ring.
The day started like any other, with the mundane glow of morning light filtering through my blinds. It was meant to be just another day of ticking off tasks and counting down the last eight weeks to our wedding, a day like any other until it wasn’t.
![Sunlight through blinds | Source: Unsplash](https://cdn.amomama.com/6f1dc73081a4ab4f29a951ad8e5461c3a9e1d90678f9e0719d29336b1d5af91f.jpg)
Sunlight through blinds | Source: Unsplash
I needed to make the final decision on the flowers and I was going to our local florist at noon to make sure I was happy with the mock-ups.
On one hand, I felt like everything was going just fine. But on the other, I was a little nervous that Chris wasn’t taking any of the wedding planning seriously.
![Floral arrangement for a wedding | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/69ad4e053a432e495c93a187c219f01bfd4baed3840e758edf97006212ff7ead.jpg)
Floral arrangement for a wedding | Source: Pexels
He agreed to everything I wanted and barely gave his own input like he just wasn’t taking anything seriously.
I didn’t know how to feel about it, but I also knew that I was being sensitive about everything. I just wanted to have the perfect day.
![A young couple using a laptop | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/93ea9bb012eed538f5e05e643a026aefbea171c0a20e1650cccb0025539560ac.jpg)
A young couple using a laptop | Source: Pexels
“Talk to him, Haley,” my best friend, Claudia, said when I confessed my feelings during a beach day. “Tell him why his input means so much to you.”
And I wanted to. I wanted to tell Chris that despite all odds, we were getting married. I was only 23, and my parents had been against the wedding from the beginning.
![Two women talking at the beach | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/699ff2512ddb5338c153115fd4a498f18ff1997fa7e8e9ab52abb8790d596c9b.jpg)
Two women talking at the beach | Source: Pexels
“Come on, Haley,” my mother said. “What’s the rush? You’re still so young, and there’s an entire world for you to discover before settling down.”
“I love him,” I said, believing that it would be enough.
![A woman writing in a book | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/3579f4168d8209076ce929b88bb428ad93a8c92416ee91c9a00487b47397efc9.jpg)
A woman writing in a book | Source: Pexels
“I’ll support you because you’re my daughter and I want you to be happy, but please, do not mistake my support for my blessing.”
I nodded at her. I knew that eventually, my mother would come around—she always did.
![A smiling young woman | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/de60e37c0a56af02e77cf73e79fa253371b7937d3e0e7a5cfff3bb2ac2408575.jpg)
A smiling young woman | Source: Pexels
But my father, on the other hand, refused to entertain the topic at all.
“I don’t have anything to say about this, Haley,” he said. “You are too young. And who is this boy? Chris is a few years older than you, but he’s still getting into his career. Can he support you?”
![A close-up of an older man | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/38a28c25f46bfba7424e1c394e9125eba27ba20dba49b009403196bbe4daf235.jpg)
A close-up of an older man | Source: Pexels
That had been almost a year ago. Since then, my parents seemed to thaw. They accepted Chris, but they were still uncertain about our marriage.
I made myself some coffee and settled down into my home office, ready to tackle the day before heading to the florist.
![A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/5a619190bcf7944a0e05176a4d9ed51af11183a6a55ef4c1532653606468f379.jpg)
A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Pexels
I glanced at the framed photo of Chris and me in Paris, a trip that now felt like a lifetime ago.
With a sigh, I picked up my phone, the screen lighting up with his smiling face as my background. I needed to ask him which flowers he preferred, his preferences for the reception menu, and another call I needed to make during the day.
![A couple in Paris | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/f3c93a7168b1e26c2d48dcdee2f97d447612762899e3c80e847aeab9dab6b0ee.jpg)
A couple in Paris | Source: Pexels
So, I tapped FaceTime, expecting another quick check-in, as had become our routine.
The call connected, and there was Chris, sunglasses donned, sitting comfortably in his car with music playing in the background.
![A man driving | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/0c66cbb8003ad3519c981ad26414177d54fed83dd887b85a56c473e05adfdc7b.jpg)
A man driving | Source: Pexels
“Hey, babe,” he said, sounding casual as he put a mint into his mouth. “I’m just driving to meet with the guys, is this urgent or can I call you back?”
Before I could muster a reply, my eyes snagged on something odd. The glint of sunlight off his glasses should’ve shown the road, maybe the gray interior of his car.
![A man wearing sunglasses | Source: Unsplash](https://cdn.amomama.com/f7746b989d68aa8f3f2e23f0c467073e362b221f7174dc9fe407978dedb4ced9.jpg)
A man wearing sunglasses | Source: Unsplash
But that’s not what I saw.
Instead, there were the unmistakable lines of a pair of legs, propped casually on his dashboard. Woman’s legs, barefoot, carefree. A gold anklet glittering in the sunlight.
![A woman wearing an anklet | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/de2f146844d20d0b9a61e7b72a4f84b51c9d04fd5812830b59902a0064b96c53.jpg)
A woman wearing an anklet | Source: Pexels
My heart plummeted into my stomach, and I completely forgot about everything else.
“No, it’s nothing urgent,” I managed, my voice a whisper of its usual self.
Frantically, I took a screenshot of the last image before Chris dropped the call.
![A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash](https://cdn.amomama.com/5f4d4ab0be592190cf9b43ab3bb263267b827f176db159feecc98ef0551f6577.jpg)
A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash
The call ended, but my pulse raced, thunderous and accusing, in my ears.
My fingers shook as I studied it, the damning evidence of betrayal was so blatant yet so unbelievable. I sent it to Claudia, needing another set of eyes.
“Am I seeing this right?” I texted, the screenshot flying through the digital space between us.
Her response was swift—she called me immediately.
![A woman on the phone | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/122414f335d5f2574c9c7d261be67df0cbe5e9686a79b77fbf57a8fa35d4a869.jpg)
A woman on the phone | Source: Pexels
“Those are definitely woman’s legs,” she said. “What the hell is he doing?”
“I have no idea,” I said. “Now what?”
“Check his location, see where he is. Go and see what he’s up to. I can meet you there if you want.”
![A phone tracking a location | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/a8bcf8fb23a6effbd5cb017bd88bce4d56fbe0f359420c240ed593afc47fdb36.jpg)
A phone tracking a location | Source: Pexels
I opened Chris’s location on my phone. There it was—a little blinking dot moving steadily along the highway. Not long after, it settled at a local restaurant bar, a popular hangout for our group of friends.
I didn’t think. I couldn’t.
![A bar | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/18a876f9fac388d9233abdefe1e4d440394d9e76ee4dd2aff8130b90159ec4d8.jpg)
A bar | Source: Pexels
Here I was, planning our wedding and Chris was out with a woman. If he was with any of our friends, he would have mentioned it on the phone and she would have most likely jumped into the frame and greeted me.
No, this was someone new.
![The back view of a woman | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/428f5dc1a90c061f2a3c308adae58320c9426ea02e14e5c43eb34554cc111ca9.jpg)
The back view of a woman | Source: Pexels
This was a different woman who my fiancé was spending time with.
With robotic motions, I stood in front of my closet, trying to pull something to change into. My mind was swirling in disbelief and fury.
Driving to the bar felt surreal, each mile a step deeper into a nightmare.
![Clothes hanging in a closet | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/4577573e6e7c5bd4af8ed8a487e23bcc347dc98a39f2f2a5717bf51f38d2570b.jpg)
Clothes hanging in a closet | Source: Pexels
I didn’t know what I would find, but I knew that whatever Chris was up to would break my heart.
I drove with the radio blasting music—I needed to silence my mind.
The restaurant was buzzing with laughter and clinking glasses, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside me. And of course, I found Chris there.
![People toasting with wine | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/5a296135d490e965abc008475cbc25ac740eefc4cbc062437fa2502716245d85.jpg)
People toasting with wine | Source: Pexels
He was seated at a table laughing with a woman. It had to have been the same woman from the car because she had a little gold anklet on. Her hand was on his arm, and he smiled at her in a way that he used to smile at me.
![A couple sitting at a bar | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/fd4fb268e85997cf88ec7d3abb6061244a3fa98f05823e30c601c638df2cf99e.jpg)
A couple sitting at a bar | Source: Pexels
I thought about sitting down at a table and observing them. The delusional part of my mind wanted to believe that maybe I had gotten it wrong. But the rational and sane part told me that the scene was exactly what I thought it was.
Sitting and watching wasn’t going to do anything other than make me nervous.
![A sad woman | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/eb52aa98bb1e717a896c546b83b8ff8aaf89b237fd9b440ca3b695ec646d86b1.jpg)
A sad woman | Source: Pexels
My engagement ring—once a symbol of promises and future dreams—felt like a shackle. With a deliberate calmness, I slid it off my finger.
I bought a glass of champagne at the bar, my hands steadier than I felt inside. As I approached their table, Chris looked up, his smile faltering into confusion.
![An engagement ring | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/083d8cc44e0cacb3fe5a4ce7823a02649953ce0252c376f88a9427b10cbd0d88.jpg)
An engagement ring | Source: Pexels
“Haley, what—”
But his words were cut short as I threw the champagne in his face. The ring followed, landing with a clink against his glass on the table.
“You can choke on your proposal,” I hissed, the words acid on my tongue. “Since it clearly meant nothing to you.”
![A woman holding a glass of champagne | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/ff68f9e1e80974753ced871d21e7ea6020d1301a1965576bb2642496fc1f6fb8.jpg)
A woman holding a glass of champagne | Source: Pexels
The woman beside him gasped, but I didn’t bother giving her any attention. I turned and walked out, the murmur of the crowd parting like the sea around me.
I drove straight to the florist, making it in time for our appointment, and canceled the entire order. Then, I drove straight to my parents’ house.
![A flower shop | Source: Unsplash](https://cdn.amomama.com/670ffcb77db9baeaf76c62cd9fc0c9db2cf969c8c5480e7f4a5a48044fbbf5f5.jpg)
A flower shop | Source: Unsplash
“Hi, honey,” my mother said, opening the door moments after I rang the doorbell.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, wrapping my arms around her in a hug.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
My mother made us some tea and brought out cookies and ice cream—the usual remedy in our home.
“So, that’s it?” she asked.
![Tea and cookies | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/81f94df0ce23ee2925a658753a6473d4d51598fe871d05a90ff87dd9cd4c2a7a.jpg)
Tea and cookies | Source: Pexels
I nodded.
“You can say it, you know,” I said.
“What?” she smiled.
“That you told me so,” I said.
But she didn’t. Instead, she hugged me and packed a bag to come over and stay with me for a little while. I still lived alone—only wanting Chris to move in after we had gotten married.
![A mother and daughter embracing | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/64ec938cc17288ca6b19c7f935842c534fee7169de1b7900ab36caa04cac8d2d.jpg)
A mother and daughter embracing | Source: Pexels
“I’ll take care of you while you figure it out,” my mother said.
I went back to my apartment alone—my mother was going to join me later, after telling my father about the recent turn of events when he got home.
So, now I’m sitting in bed and eating a bowl of ice cream because I don’t know what else to do.
![A bowl of ice cream | Source: Pexels](https://cdn.amomama.com/8e1825598e63c9715b64c5e7dc35605a862a5d4ee58d74e31a04321d2a853db5.jpg)
A bowl of ice cream | Source: Pexels
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This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.