Chapter 1

Seven years. We had been together for seven years, and yet, my girlfriend’s Instagram had never featured a single trace of me.

Whenever I brought it up, she would always brush it off, saying she rarely posted on social media anyway, and told me not to be so sensitive.

An uncomfortable, lingering anxiety always hovered in my chest, but I chose to trust her. I stopped asking.

Until that night, when her phone lit up right next to me, and an Instagram notification popped onto the screen, catching my eye.

Late at night, after she fell fast asleep, I picked up her phone and unlocked it.

The moment I clicked into her profile, the blood in my veins completely froze.

She had posted hundreds of updates. And in every single one of those hundreds of photos, the same man was smiling back.

Dinners, road trips, birthday parties—he was there for all of it.

The latest post had been uploaded just today. The caption read: "Happy 3rd wedding anniversary."

In the comments, someone teased: "Three years of marriage and still this sweet?"

And she had personally replied: "I'll be sweet with him for the rest of my life."

I stared at the screen for a long, long time. Then, I placed the phone back on the nightstand. I didn't sleep a wink that night.

When the sun came up, she woke up and leaned in to kiss me, just like she did every morning.

I turned my head away, dodging her lips.

"Chloe, let's break up."

Her lips brushed against my hair. She froze for a second, then chuckled.

"What's wrong, babe? Didn't sleep well last night?"

I didn't say a word.

She reached out to caress my cheek, but I dodged her again.

Her hand hovered awkwardly in the air before she slowly drew it back. She sat up, propping herself up on the mattress, and squinted at me.

"Are you mad?"

Her voice was soft, carrying that familiar, gentle warmth that I loved.

"Is it because I came home late last night? The company had an emergency meeting. I really couldn't get out of it."

I remained silent.

She leaned in closer, studying my face, and suddenly laughed.

"Oh, I get it. Did you watch some stupid TikTok videos about relationships again?"

She reached out and ruffled my hair, treating me like a sulky child. "Come on, stop overthinking. I'll leave work early today and take you to that steakhouse you’ve been dying to try, okay?"

Her tone was so natural, so full of love.

For seven years, she had always been like this.

When I was angry, she would soothe me.

When I was sad, she would make me laugh.

Whenever I wanted something, she never said no.

That was why I had never doubted her.

That was why I had believed every single one of her excuses.

"Chloe," I finally spoke, my voice so raspy it didn't even sound like mine.

"Yeah, babe?"

"You and him... when did you two meet?"

The smile on her face stiffened, inch by inch.

"What do you mean, 'him'?"

Her voice was tight, but she forced another laugh.

"Who are you talking about?"

She was still acting.

I looked at her face—a face I had adored for seven years—and suddenly felt like I was looking at a complete stranger.

"Your Instagram," I said. "Hundreds of posts. You blocked me from seeing all of them."

Her face went utterly pale.

"That guy. The one you call 'hubby.' The one you wished a happy third wedding anniversary."

Her lips trembled, but no sound came out.

"It’s been seven years, Chloe."

My voice began to shake.

"I never once checked your phone because you said relationships need trust.

You told me you didn't like posting on Instagram, and I believed you.

You told me you'd introduce me to your parents when you were ready, and I believed you.

You said you wanted us to enjoy our twenties before getting married, and I believed that too."

Hot tears finally spilled over my lashes, rolling down my cheeks.

"I believed everything you said. And this is how you treat me?"

She reached out to hug me, but I shoved her away.

Panic flashed in her eyes, and she stumbled over her words. "Liam, listen to me! It's not what you think. That was arranged by my family. My parents blackmailed me. They said my dad’s failing heart couldn't take the stress, and they threatened to completely disown and cut me off. I had no choice..."

I stared at her as if she were a ghost.

"You had no choice?"

I repeated her words, tasting the bitterness.

"So they forced you to marry him? They forced you to have dinner with him, travel with him, and celebrate his birthdays? Did they also force you to post hundreds of pictures on Instagram just to show off how much you love him?"