Chapter2
The seconds crawled by.
I scrolled through William Ashford’s shopping history for the past two months as fast as my fingers could move.
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By the time I reached the end, my scalp prickled, and my hands and feet felt like ice.
Every gift he had given me
the last sixty days… he had bought two of each.
I didn’t know whether to be relieved or crushed.
Only the handbag had been fake.
Everything else he’d ordered twice was authentic.
When I finally reached the bottom of the list, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I opened his WeChat.
It was spotless.
I was pinned right at the top.
His chat list was short, just coworkers and his parents.
Not a single crack in the façade.
Then it hit me.
I tapped the “Switch Account” button on a whim.
Bullseye.
Alongside the logged–in account, there was a second one.
The profile picture was a cartoon puppy sweating nervously.
I’d never seen it before.
With trembling fingers, I opened the alternate account.
It was even cleaner than the main one.
Because it only had one contact.
The username read: Sunny Skies.
The profile photo? Another puppy, this one with a little bow on its ear.
And… it matched William’s avatar perfectly. Couple profile pictures.
Sunny Skies: So you really bought one real bag and one fake?
William: Had no choice. Got burned on some stocks, cash is tight.
Sunny Skies: Oh my god, Will… You didn’t give me the fake one, did you?
William: My little princess, how could you even think that? I’d never insult you like that.
I kept scrolling, my stomach sinking lower with every line,
From my birthday, to our engagement gift, to my promotion present…
for each and every one, William had asked her opinion first.
Then bought two, one for me, one for her.
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No wonder everything he picked lately was in pastel pink or blue.
Sunny Skies had told him those were her favorite colors.
I remembered how happy I’d felt opening those gifts.
I’d thought my boyfriend had finally learned to be thoughtful.
Now, I felt like the punchline of a cruel joke.
I kept reading.
The little personal details in their chats made something click in my mind.
This girl… I knew her.
My heart stopped. Literally stopped, like the ticking of a clock.
I clutched my chest, gasping for air.
Sunny Skies: Tomorrow you’re coming here to shoot your wedding photos. I want to see your happiness for myself.
William: Sweetheart, I don’t even want to take those photos with her. The only bride I want to see is you…
Sunny Skies: Her gown is hideous. Like she wrapped herself in an old mosquito net, so tacky.
William: She likes it, that’s what matters. She’s an engineer, just writes code all day. What taste could she possibly have?
Sunny Skies: Can’t you just skip the photo shot? Can’t you just not get married? Do it for me…
William: Sweetheart, I’m sorry. That’s the one thing I can’t do. I’ve slept with her for seven years. She’s already had one pregnancy ended for me. I may not love her, but I owe her.
The conversation ended there.
I clicked into his Moments just to be sure.
Every drop of blood in my body seemed to freeze solid.
I was right. I did know her.
It was Isabella Fairchild, my wedding photographer.
Of course. Isabella was one of the most sought–after photographers in Kingsbury, with her own social media following.
People waited months to book a session with her.
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And yet William had managed to schedule ours without breaking a sweat.
My vision blurred.
It felt like someone was carving my heart out with a knife.
The sound of the front door opening snapped me back.
William was back with the package I’d sent him for.
It wasn’t time to confront him. Not yet.
I swallowed my rage, wiped my tears, and set his phone exactly where he’d left
