Ethan didn’t come home all night.
The next morning, a new contact appeared on my phone—an unfamiliar number.
I tapped the profile picture—it was Rose, her gentle, harmless face staring back at me.
We barely knew each other. Other than knowing she was Ethan’s female confidante, we had no connection.
I had no idea how she got my number, yet for some inexplicable reason, I didn’t block it.
Almost the moment I opened the chat, she sent a photo—without a single word.
It was taken in a hotel room.
Ethan lay on the bed shirtless, fast asleep.
Rose wore his white shirt, nestled against him, and flashed a V sign at the camera.
Her smile was both triumphant and teasing.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, daylight poured in.
Time, place, and people—it was all painfully obvious.
Looking at the photo, my heart froze and shattered into countless pieces.
Yesterday he was at the bar; this morning, he was already in the hotel.
Seamless.
I turned off my phone, expressionless, and walked into the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of ice water and drank it in one gulp.
The cold liquid slid down my throat, but it couldn’t extinguish the fire in my chest.
At 10 a.m., Ethan returned.
He still carried a faint smell of alcohol and some unfamiliar perfume.
Seeing me sitting in the living room, he froze for a moment, then plastered on a conciliatory smile.
“Autie, you’re still mad?”
I stared at him quietly, deciding to give him one last chance.
“Ethan, where were you last night? What did you do?”
His eyes flickered, avoiding mine, and he reached out to grab my hand.
“I drank too much last night. I slept at Joe’s place.
“Autie, can we not fight?
“The wedding’s tomorrow. Don’t let a little thing ruin our mood.”
He was still lying.
I gave up completely, yanked my hand free, and stood up.
“Ethan, I’m tired. Handle the wedding yourself.”
I went back to my room and locked the door.
He knocked, confused and impatient, but I ignored him.
I took out my phone, found Rose in my contacts, and sent her a message:
“3 p.m., Corner Café downtown. We need to meet.”
She replied immediately: “Okay.”
At 3 p.m., Rose arrived right on time.
She saw me and gave a sheepish smile.
“Autumn, I’m really sorry. Ethan got drunk last night and insisted on talking to me. I spent the whole night taking care of him.”
Her words sounded apologetic, but her eyes betrayed pride.
“Is that so?”
I stirred my coffee slowly, my tone calm.
“Well, that must have been quite the effort.”
She seemed taken aback by my calmness, froze for a moment, then spoke again:
“Autumn, don’t get me wrong. Ethan and I are just friends.
“I know you’re getting married, and I sincerely wish you both well.
It’s just… Ethan has some burdens he can only share with me. He said his biggest regret is…”
“…that he can’t give you a wedding, right?”
I finished for her.
Rose’s expression changed instantly.
I looked at her and smiled. “The time capsules you two buried together—I dug them up.”
She stopped pretending.
“If you know everything, why are you still holding onto him?
“Autumn, the one Ethan has loved all along… has always been me.”
I set down my coffee and met her gaze directly.
“If that’s the case, I’ll let you have him.”
Rose’s eyes widened in shock, utterly incredulous.
“You… what did you just say?”
“I said, tomorrow’s wedding—be the bride.”
