[Love this! Nathan, teach us how to find someone like her!]
And amidst the sea of replies, Nathan had smugly commented: [My girlfriend is even better than Mrs. Colby!]
But what caught my attention was a small heart icon beside one of the comments. Alexa's account had liked it.
My hands balled into fists, my nails digging into my palms until I felt the sting of broken skin. I laughed bitterly—uncontrollably. My voice echoed in the empty room, a sound filled with anguish and disbelief.
This was the same woman who had always refused to exchange contact details with other men, who had said, "Sorry, I have a husband," with such conviction that no one dared question her loyalty.
Now, I realized it was all a performance. Every act of devotion, every boundary she claimed to draw—it had been a carefully constructed facade designed for my eyes alone.
***
Two hours later, Alexa returned. The front door creaked open and I heard the faint click of her heels against the floorboards. She stepped into the room with a radiant smile, her arms laden with a chocolate cake and a beautifully wrapped gift box.
"Harry?" she called softly, her voice honeyed and warm.