Even after graduation, our relationship stayed strong. He remained in Capital City to start his business while I went back home to find work.
This year, our families had already begun discussing wedding dates.
I'd resigned before the New Year specifically so I could move to Capital City afterward and find a job here. We'd never have to be apart again.
Now, all of that had turned to ash.
Kevin had found another girl—one he wanted to bring home to meet his parents.
He'd even started to despise me.
The words I'd once spoken to comfort him, tearing open my own wounds in the process—he'd turned them into jokes to share with someone else.
Darkness fell. The streets emptied.
I found a random hotel nearby.
I'd barely settled in when my phone lit up.
A message from Mom.
Sweetie, have you eaten yet? Dinner here is amazing!
A photo of the New Year's Eve feast followed.
Relatives crowded around the table, laughing, radiant.
A draft slipped through the hotel window and crept up my sleeves. I shivered.
I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and forced my voice to sound normal:
"The food's all ready! We're about to dig in. Don't worry about me."
I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't let my parents spend New Year's Eve worrying about me.
I found a random photo of a holiday dinner online and sent it to them.
Then, without thinking, I glanced at my chat with Kevin.
Empty as always.
At midnight, firecrackers erupted outside the window.
The celebration was so loud I couldn't sleep.
Like picking at a wound, I opened Kevin's social media, searching for any trace of his betrayal I might have missed.
He'd hidden it well. He'd kept her completely shielded.
I scrolled back and forth, over and over.
Finally, in a screenshot of a work group chat, I spotted Camille's username.
A distinctive name.
Something clicked. I searched for it across every platform I could think of.
Among dozens of accounts with similar names, I recognized her instantly.
The profile picture was painfully familiar—it was the matching half of Kevin's avatar.
When Kevin had changed his profile picture, I'd been so happy. I'd searched for the matching one and set it as my own.
His expression had soured.
He said it was just a random image. He didn't want to flaunt our relationship in front of friends and family.
In the end, he'd practically forced me to change it back.
Camille's account had only a handful of followers.
But hundreds of posts—chronicling her love story with Kevin.
It had started last May. That's when the first hints appeared.
Poor boss has been stuck at the office for a month straight, eating nothing but takeout. I brought him some homemade chicken soup today, and he actually teared up. Makes you wonder what kind of girlfriend he has.
That was when Kevin's father had broken his leg.
To let Kevin focus on the company without distraction, none of us had told him.
I'd taken a full month off work. I'd run myself ragged caring for Ronald until he was discharged.
Afterward, my supervisor had quietly removed my name from the promotion list.
Boss pushed back so many projects just to take me on business trips—basically a paid vacation! Being spoiled feels incredible.
That was our ten-year anniversary. It was also my birthday.
I'd pulled an all-nighter to finish a project, scraped together three days off, and planned to surprise him.
He'd told me he had an important business trip. He simply couldn't get out of it.
Boss bought me a designer bag! The charm that came with it was kind of ugly though, so I'm leaving that for him.
I froze.
My eyes drifted to my phone case.
An identical charm dangled there—Kevin's belated birthday gift to me.
I'd treasured it for so long. I'd even covered it with a protective film.
It took me two hours to get through every post on Camille's account.
When I finished, I felt nothing but cold.
Not a single photo showed Kevin's face clearly.
