I hesitated before opening it.
Another message arrived almost immediately.
Please don’t block me before you read this.
I typed cautiously.
Do I know you?
The reply came within seconds.
No. But we both know Tyler.
Every muscle in my body stiffened.
I glanced toward the apartment door as though Tyler might somehow still be standing outside.
How do you know him?
Instead of answering, she sent a photograph.
My heart nearly stopped.
It was the picture I’d deleted after our cabin trip.
The blurry one beside the rental car.
The same shoulder.
The same jacket.
The same hidden face.
I stared at it in disbelief.
Where did you get this?
Avery answered.
A friend saw it before it disappeared and sent it to me. Tyler told me he was attending a company retreat that weekend.
My fingers suddenly felt numb.
Company retreat.
He’d told me we’d needed that weekend together because work had been overwhelming.
I forced myself to type.
Who are you?
The typing bubble appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally her answer arrived.
I’m Tyler’s fiancée. We’ve been together for six years. Our wedding is in three months.
Everything inside me went completely still.
The room didn’t spin.
I didn’t cry.
I simply stopped breathing for what felt like an eternity.
I read the sentence again.
Then again.
It never changed.
Fiancée.
Six years.
Wedding.
Three months.
None of it made sense.
It couldn’t.
I’d spent four years building a future with him.
We talked about buying a house.
We discussed baby names.
We argued over whether we’d someday adopt a dog or a cat first.
Surely there had to be some misunderstanding.
My hands shook as I typed one word.
Proof.
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