“Look at him, he’s clearly still in a cold war with you.”
“What a pity he didn’t show up today. Otherwise, maybe you two would have reconciled right here.”
The only reason I came was because I saw him reply in our Facebook Alumni Group.
The way they talked about Daniel Hughes—successful, devoted, the perfect husband—made him sound like some flawless romantic hero.
But to me, he was nothing but disgusting.
For the rest of my life, I never wanted to see him again.
My expression stayed indifferent, and I didn’t respond.
But the class president wouldn’t let it go.
“The divorce—was it you who brought it up? Don’t tell me you betrayed him?”
Her words immediately stirred whispers among the classmates.
“Sophia, I never would’ve guessed. Back in school you were the quiet, well-behaved girl.”
“Exactly. And Daniel has been posting photos and videos of you on Instagram every single day, mourning you. We all thought he was widowed.”
I snapped my head up. “What?”
The class president quickly handed me her phone.
“Look, see for yourself. Every day. Photos of you in school, your wedding pictures, even videos from your honeymoon.”
I scrolled through the posts, fury boiling inside me.
Each post came with captions.