My fiancée’s childhood sweetheart sprained his ankle, and without a word, she became his personal chauffeur.
When I voiced my displeasure, she went a step further—she let him move into our wedding room.
She even had the nerve to tell me, “You’re so petty. You wouldn’t let me drive Derek to and from work. His foot’s still not healed, and I can’t bear the thought of him walking so far.”
“Our wedding room is near his office anyway. It’s not like we’re using it right now, so it’s just sitting there.”
On the day we were supposed to register our marriage, she stood me up.
“Derek sneezed twice this morning, and I got worried, so I’m taking him to the hospital. The marriage certificate can wait. Let’s reschedule.”
Reschedule my ass.
I called my childhood friend Emily Hart on the spot. “Sophie Bennett, are you still getting married or not? Show up if you are!”
——
I waited at the usual intersection for half an hour. No sign of my fiancée’s car.
Normally, she’d already be parked and waiting to take me to work—rain or shine—for three years now.
I called her twenty times before she finally picked up.
But it wasn’t her voice I heard. It was a man’s.
“Ethan, Vanessa’s driving and can’t answer the phone.”
“This is Derek. I twisted my ankle this morning, so she came to give me a lift to work.”
“Put her on the phone.”
“Vanessa Moore, couldn’t you have called me before going to get Derek? Do you know how worried I was?”
“It happened so fast, I forgot to let you know. And by the way, I won’t be picking you up from work anymore.”
“Derek’s still hurt, so I have to prioritize him now. Okay, I’m hanging up.”
I was seething.
Derek—what a master manipulator. But women fall for guys like him.
I ended up taking a taxi and was two hours late for work.
My direct supervisor, who also happens to be my childhood sweetheart, called me into her office.
“What happened? You’re super late.”
“Don’t even ask. Vanessa picked Derek up without telling me. I waited forever, then went to her place. Took a huge detour.”
“She’s terrible. Don’t marry her. Dump her and marry me instead.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please, I still remember you skinny-dipping in the river.”
Right then, my phone buzzed. A Facebook message from Derek.
“Sorry, Ethan, for making you late today. Did your boss yell at you?”
“I told Vanessa I could take a taxi, but she insisted. Hope you’re not mad.”
I replied, “Thanks for asking. I’m family, so only I get to scold my boss.”
“Also, I’m three years older than you, so don’t call me brother. And I do mind Vanessa picking you up every day. From now on, take a taxi.”
I hit send and instantly felt better.
Then he replied, “Sorry, I assumed you were older based on your appearance.”
“I told Vanessa I’d take a taxi, but she wouldn’t listen. Maybe you should talk to her yourself?”
I showed the message to Sophie. “Look at this! He’s calling me old now!”
“You’re in your thirties and still dressing like a high schooler. Who are you trying to fool?”
Then came the final straw—Derek’s new social media post.
‘My exclusive co-pilot.’
The picture showed him in the passenger seat of my car, head tilted slightly, with Vanessa’s shoulder visible beside him.
The more I looked at it, the more furious I became.
I dialed Vanessa.
“Done dropping off your dear brother Derek? Meet me at the coffee shop downstairs from my office. Now. We need to talk.”
