Then his mother called his phone, asking if he had finally dumped his "ATM machine" to marry the girl the family actually approved of.
Every bill I paid, every "emergency" transfer, had funded their secret life.
Janessa was even wearing the dress I bought her while accepting the ring I paid for.
They walked into my hospital room, ready to gaslight me one last time.
But I wasn't the naive girl anymore.
I wiped my tears, unlocked the evidence on his phone, and prepared to burn their perfect little world to the ground.
Chapter 1
The cheers around me blurred, the dazzling sunlight fracturing into a thousand painful shards as I saw him on one knee, not for me, but for her. My world, built on four years of unwavering love and sacrifice across continents, shattered into a million pieces at that very moment.
I was Claire Stanley, a marketing executive who lived and breathed the frantic pace of New York City. He was Eric Williams, my boyfriend, studying law thousands of miles away in sunny California. Our relationship was a long-distance masterpiece, or so I thought, a testament to enduring love and trust.
"He's devoted to you, Claire," Janessa, my best friend since childhood, would coo over the phone, her voice always a comforting presence. "He talks about you all the time." She was Eric's classmate, my eyes and ears in California, the bridge that made the distance seem less daunting. I trusted her implicitly, a trust planted in childhood and nurtured over two decades.
I' d flown back and forth countless times, battling my severe motion sickness, just to steal a weekend with him. My credit card statements were a testament to my belief in our future: flights, rent, groceries, study materials-every expense meticulously covered, a silent investment in the life we planned to build together. Eric, in his charming way, made it all feel worth it.
"My future depends on you, Claire-bear," he' d whispered during our late-night calls, his voice thick with a tenderness that always melted my heart. "You're my rock, my everything. I can't wait to make you the proudest wife in the world."
Then he' d laugh, a warm, deep sound. "Besides, I'm just making sure my sugar mama is happy. Gotta keep the ATM machine functional, right?" It was a joke, a playful jab, but it made me feel loved, cherished, even essential.
Today was the day. Eric's graduation. My heart pounded with a nervous thrill, a secret joy. I clutched a small velvet box in my hand, a diamond glinting within, ready to surprise him with a proposal, to solidify our future once and for all. I had arrived, unannounced, at the sprawling campus quad, my stomach churning from the flight, but my spirit soaring.
A crowd had gathered near the central fountain, a buzz of excitement in the air. Laughter and camera flashes exploded around a focal point, drawing me closer. I pushed through the throng, eager to find Eric, to catch his eye, to deliver my grand surprise.
Then I saw him. Eric. My Eric. He was there, in the center, kneeling.
My breath hitched. A wave of dizziness washed over me, but it wasn't motion sickness. It was something far colder, far more paralyzing.
He was on one knee.
And he wasn't looking at me.
He was looking up, his gaze fixed on a woman standing before him, her face alight with a dazzling, joyous smile.
No. This couldn't be happening. My mind screamed in protest, my vision blurring, trying to deny the horrifying tableau unfolding before me. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the image away, praying it was a hallucination brought on by exhaustion and jet lag.
When I opened them again, the scene remained, stark and undeniable. Eric, my boyfriend, was proposing. To Janessa. My best friend.
A gasp tore from my throat, but it was lost in the roar of the crowd. The world tilted. My knees buckled. It felt like my lungs had forgotten how to breathe, like my heart had stopped beating in my chest. The pain was a physical blow, a sharp, searing agony that ripped through me.
Eric, still on one knee, spoke, his voice booming with a passion I thought was reserved only for me. "Janessa, my love, you are the most incredible woman I have ever known. These past three years with you have been the happiest of my life. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
Three years? The words echoed in my head, a cruel, mocking whisper. Three years. While I was paying his bills, flying across the country, planning our future, he was telling her she was the most incredible woman in his life. The sheer, audacious betrayal stole the air from my lungs.
Janessa, tears streaming down her face, nodded vigorously. "Yes! A thousand times yes, Eric!" She threw her arms around him, a triumphant laugh bubbling up, a sound that tore at the last vestiges of my sanity.
Her dress. The pure white, designer gown shimmered in the sunlight as she embraced Eric. It was the dress. The one I had picked out, paid for, and shipped to her last month, believing it was for the graduation gala she claimed to be attending. She wore it now, accepting my boyfriend's proposal, a twisted, perverse mockery of my generosity.
My body felt disconnected, frozen in place. I wanted to scream, to run, to lash out, but I couldn't move. My hands trembled, the velvet box slipping from my nerveless fingers, clattering to the ground, its contents spilling out. The diamond ring, meant for me, rolled towards the embracing couple, shimmering with a cruel irony.
I saw Janessa whisper something to Eric, her face buried in his shoulder. "I knew you'd propose, honey. I'm so glad we don't have to hide anymore."
Eric pulled back, his eyes shining with a love that should have been mine, and slipped a ring onto Janessa's finger. A different ring. Not the one I' d bought for him, the expensive watch I' d given him as a graduation gift that I' d wanted him to wear when I proposed. This was their ring.
The crowd erupted in another wave of cheers, a cacophony of joy that felt like a personal assault. "They're so perfect together!" someone gushed beside me. "Known each other forever, always together in class, in the library, even lived together for the last two years, didn't they?"
Another voice chimed in, "Yeah, they're the campus sweethearts. Everyone knew they'd get married eventually. Such a stable, loving couple."
Lived together? Campus sweethearts? A cold, suffocating dread enveloped me. All this time, everyone knew. Everyone but me. The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow. The flowers I held, meant for a joyful celebration, slipped from my grasp, falling to the ground like my shattered dreams. The expensive watch, intended as a symbol of our future, now felt like a lead weight in my pocket, a stark reminder of his deceit.
My chest tightened, a searing pain gripping my heart. My vision tunneled, the vibrant colors of the quad fading to an ominous grey. A suffocating pressure built in my head, then a dizzying rush. My legs gave out. The last thing I heard before the blackness swallowed me whole was a distant, muffled shout, and the chilling sound of cheers for their love story.
Someone must have called for help. I drifted back into consciousness to the antiseptic smell of a hospital room, the soft beeping of machines my only companions. A nurse, her face kind but weary, checked my vitals.
"You had quite a collapse, dear," she said gently, her voice calm. "Panic attack, brought on by extreme stress, it seems. And dehydration."
My throat was parched, my head pounding. I tried to speak, but only a dry rasp escaped. I desperately fumbled for my phone, my fingers shaking as I tried to dial Eric. No answer. I tried again. Still nothing. My mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear. Where was he? Why wasn't he here?
Then Janessa's contact. My best friend. She' d explain, she' d make sense of this nightmare. I called, but it went straight to voicemail. I tried texting, sending desperate, incoherent messages. No response.
Tears welled up, blurring my vision. They streamed down my face, hot and stinging, landing on the screen of my phone, smudging the desperate words. I felt utterly alone, completely abandoned.
The nurse returned, holding a small, colorful lollipop. "Here, honey. For the blood sugar. You'll be alright." She saw my tears. "Hard day, huh? I heard about what happened. That sweet young man, Eric, proposing to his girlfriend, Janessa. Such a lovely couple. Always so attentive to each other, especially after that little incident with the dog last year, remember? He was so worried about her when she fell ill."
My hand froze, the lollipop halfway to my mouth. Dog? What dog? And Janessa falling ill? Eric had told me he was sick last winter, that he had been worried sick about his dog. He had called me from the hospital, his voice weak, saying he was too unwell to talk much, but that he loved me.
The nurse, oblivious to the fresh agony she' d just inflicted, continued, "Oh, they're just adorable. Always together, always so in love. Everyone on campus knew they were meant to be. Such a big surprise for the graduation." Her words were a relentless hammer blow, each one striking another shard of my broken heart.
"Now, rest up. They'll be here soon, I'm sure."
But "they" never came. I lay there, numb, the lollipop melting in my hand, its artificial sweetness a bitter contrast to the reality that was slowly, painfully, sinking in. The nurse's innocent words had just twisted the knife deeper, revealing a layer of public deception I couldn't have even imagined.