“Damn. The cake's going to waste,” Isabel muttered, her brows furrowed, “Also, Amelia won't like this. You did this the last time too. Although I know how important that was, but…”
“I know it sounds, and looks bad, Isabel. The cake can stay in the fridge, but I promise I'll make it up to Amelia. Thanks for your concern.” He said, then went to Amelia, giving her a cheek on the kiss, “I'll be off.”
“Bye,” Amelia replied lightly, waving at him absentmindedly, as he walked out of the house, heading straight for the car.
There was no Paris or Dubai trip happening. She'd heard wrong.
“Amelia, I'm really sorry this had to happen. Perhaps, you just have to wait,” Isabel said, her expression soft.
It's all good. If he's not spending our anniversary with me, then at least he's not spending it with you either, Amelia thought.
“I guess. Thanks for the cake,” She muttered, a hint of a tiny smile on her face.
Now, Amelia's doubts were cleared. Eventually, she spent half the day with Isabel, who tried to make it up to her.
“Shopping is checked out,” Isabel said, hours later as they left the shopping mall, “Now, we have the spa, and the restaurant left. Let's go.”
However, her joy and relief were nothing but short-lived. Amelia's hopes were eventually crashed brutally.
How did it happen? She was online a few days later, checking out matching couple dresses on Instagram, wanting to have one with Fred when he came back. Then she stumbled on Isabel's account which was suggested to her.
“Oh. A new account?” She muttered then smiled, “Let’s follow her.”
Tap, Amelia's finger clicked on the profile, and the very first post she saw was a video of Isabel, holding a bouquet of red roses, sniffing them, and looking like an angel.
She was dressed in a golden bodycon gown which accentuated her curves before flaring out in a long train at her knees to the ground.
“Is she having an anniversary with her fiance too?” She mumbled in envy with a faint smile, only for someone familiar to come into the video frame.
Her smile faded.
“You're so beautiful that… I want to be the only one who can see you,” Fred said, looking down at Isabel, with twinkling eyes. He held her hand against the rose, then raised it to his lips to kiss it.
Isabel's ears turned a fierce shade of red, as a song began to play in the background. Her world was spiraling into the sky.
Meanwhile, Amelia was dissolving into nothing. She couldn't even feel her heart in her chest. It was dull, numb, and a painful sting came from somewhere unknown deep within her.
All she could see was black, and that black was punctured by their smiling faces. She bit her lip hard, eyes welling up fiercely.
Perfect. They'd fooled her!
She took a screenshot of the video with shaking hands, and stormed out of her room, grabbing a coat as she did so.
First, she would question that stupid fiance of Isabel's, who let her go around, snatching other people's men.
She yanked open the door of her car, slammed it, and strapped her seatbelt, before squeezing the steering wheel.
“It's fine,” she scolded herself, “You knew all along. It's freaking fine. You're not hurt. This… this doesn't even have a hold on you. You're just mad!” Her eyes shone even as she forced the words out, tears streaking down her cheeks aggressively.
Then she turned the ignition, stepping on the brakes as the car picked up speed, while dialing the number that had been given to her once when Isabel couldn't reach her fiance.
She was going to meet this man—the man who couldn't hold his wife!
