We all attended high school here in our hometown.
Every year around this time, the closer classmates would organize a small reunion.
Since I’d made up my mind to leave, I figured it was time to say a proper goodbye—so I agreed to go.
At 8:30 p.m., I arrived at Suite 603 of “Winnie's Bar,” a local upscale karaoke and entertainment club, just as Lorelei had texted me.
As soon as I entered, my classmates started teasing me.
“Where’s Denver? He didn’t come with you?”
Someone laughed, “Come on, when has Mr. Medina ever shown up at a class reunion? He’s got a million things to deal with every day!”
But then a woman sitting in the corner let out a snort and said mockingly, “Who says Denver didn’t come? I just saw him in the private room next door—blocking drinks for some young girl.”
She looked right at me. “Michelle, don’t tell me your husband is cheating on you? Finally losing your grip, huh?”
I recognized her immediately—it was Colette.
Back in high school, she was always second-best, constantly trying and failing to beat me.
Before I got together with Denver, she had even confessed her feelings to him.
But he chose me. And ever since then, she’s held a grudge—convinced I stole him from her.
Now, finally catching wind of trouble in my marriage, she was seizing the chance to gloat.
The others quickly jumped in to defend me.
“No way. Denver loves Michelle to death. Even if every man on earth cheated, he wouldn’t.”
“I don’t buy it either. Remember how over-the-top he was when he chased her? And that time Michelle got in that car accident—he was crying like a baby!”
“His parents were so against them dating that they cut him off financially. And just to buy her a birthday gift, Denver worked a whole month at a burger joint after school.”
One by one, they recalled all the things Denver had done for me.
Their words triggered a flood of memories, flashing before my eyes like a reel of film.
They didn’t believe he could ever cheat, and their disbelief only made Colette angrier.
She slapped the table and stood up. “You don’t believe me? Fine! Come with me and see for yourselves!”
“Sure, let’s go. Who’s afraid of you?”
“Come on, Michelle. Let’s go shut her up!”
Someone tugged on my arm, trying to pull me along to publicly slap Colette in the face with the truth.
But I hesitated.
Because deep down... I was afraid she might be telling the truth.
Just as Lorelei was about to step in to change the subject and smooth things over, Colette folded her arms, eyes gleaming with triumph.
“What’s wrong, Michelle? Don’t tell me you’re scared?”
“I told you long ago—women like you, who fight and claw for everything, always end up with nothing. One day, you’ll be tossed aside like a stray dog.”
Just as her voice fell, the door to the room suddenly opened from the outside.
Standing at the entrance—was Denver.
And right behind him was his assistant, Mallory.
“I heard you guys were having a reunion next door, so I thought I’d drop by and say hello,” he said casually.
“Wife, enjoy yourself tonight. Put everything on my tab.”
I glanced sideways at Lorelei. She gave me a subtle wave of her phone—clearly, she was the one who’d messaged Denver to come and defuse the situation.
Our classmates were thrilled.
“Someone said Michelle got dumped? Open your eyes—this is what happiness looks like!”
Colette froze. Her lips parted, but no words came out.
But just then, Mallory gently tugged on Denver’s sleeve and spoke in a soft, delicate voice, “Mr. Medina, are these all your high school classmates? I really want to get to know them!”
The next moment, without the slightest hesitation, Denver wrapped an arm around her shoulders—and began introducing each person in the room by name.
Instantly, the entire suite fell into stunned silence.
It was as if someone had slapped me across the face—hard.
I stood there frozen, humiliated, caught between leaving and staying, with nowhere to go.
