Chapter 1

On the eve of our wedding, I accidentally saw my boyfriend’s Wish social feed.

My replica Valentino wedding shoes cost him $29.90.

His own designer sneakers cost over three hundred dollars.

Scrolling down further, I realized that every single anniversary gift he had ever given me was a cheap knockoff.

Even the Tiffany wedding jewelry set he gave me was fake.

After freezing in silence for a moment, I went online and ordered a realistic blow-up doll.

Since you love fakes so much, Austin, I’m going to give you a fake bride at our wedding.

I was getting my wedding nails done when the nail tech pleaded, "Hey girl, could you please download Wish and help me slash a price? I’ll throw in two extra rhinestones for your nails for free, okay?"

I was a regular customer and loved her aesthetic, so I couldn’t really say no.

But after registering and opening the app, the smile on my face froze.

Just three minutes ago, my boyfriend had successfully placed an order for a pair of replica Valentino wedding shoes.

After using a coupon, the final price he paid was $29.90.

I stared at the screen, thinking his account must have been hacked.

But a second later, Austin sent me a message: "Babe, I just bought those wedding shoes you wanted! They were so expensive—cost me two months of my salary. But hey, making you happy is what matters most!"

The picture he attached was identical to the shoes on the Wish order.

Except the ones I had looked at were the real deal.

The ones he bought were cheap knockoffs.

As I scrolled further down his Wish feed, my heart sank lower and lower. Everything he bought for himself came from official flagship stores, while every gift he bought for me was a piece of junk under ten dollars.

Even the Tiffany wedding jewelry set he got me was fake.

No wonder he looked so uncomfortable and made excuses when I suggested we go to the physical store to pick them out.

He had insisted his mother had already prepared them.

It turned out they had just ordered them from Wish.

By that time, the fake jewelry was probably already sitting in the Amazon delivery locker down the street.

I let out a self-deprecating laugh, opened our chat, and typed a quick reply.

"Thanks, babe! I also bought you that Rolex Submariner you’ve been eyeing."