No answer. I tried again. Still nothing. The pit in my stomach grew heavier with each failed attempt.
Desperate for answers, I opened Instagram. Using my dummy account—the one I used to stalk Naomi and Oliver’s friends—I scrolled through their posts, searching for any sign of him. That’s when I saw it: a live video.
My heart sank as I clicked on it. The screen filled with an image of Oliver, his arm wrapped tightly around Naomi’s waist. She looked smug, her head resting on his shoulder, while his lips brushed against hers.
I stared, frozen, as the live continued. The person filming—one of Oliver’s friends—laughed in the background. "Oops, they’re kissing. Hey, Oliver, what do you think your gullible girlfriend would think if she saw this?"
Oliver smirked, his expression infuriatingly casual. "She wouldn’t know if you stopped filming. But even if she did—who cares? I’ll just tell her I love her, and she’ll believe me. She loves me that much."