I grabbed my glasses from the side of my pillow and immediately recognized the jacket in the photo—it was a high-end, custom-designed piece I had my friend bring back from abroad. There was only one in the world, I had specially ordered for Simon’s birthday a couple of months ago, and now it was worn by the man in the photo. There was no mistaking it—that was Simon.
I realized I was cheated on and jumped out of bed, slipping on my slippers and heading to the door. “Be right back.”
“Damn you, Simon Charles, seriously. You couldn’t even get me a limited-edition gift in time, but you’ve got time to cheat on me?”
Instead of heartbreak, I felt a wave of anger, like having something valuable snatched away.
My anger overshadowed any sadness I might have felt. As I walked to the bar near the school gate, where the photo was taken, I imagined a dramatic confrontation, like in the movies about catching a partner cheating.
But when I arrived, even though they were still cozied up before my eyes, the dramatic confrontation I had imagined didn’t unfold.
“Nikki!” seeing me approach, Simon looked startled, quickly pushed the girl away.