Part 1The Delivery Guy At Her Hotel

My fiancée demanded thirty grand before she’d marry me.

To raise the cash as fast as possible, I worked day shifts at the clinic and delivered orders on DoorDash all night.

Eventually, I scraped together the thirty grand.

Then her family moved the goalposts—now they needed eighty grand.

I agreed without missing a beat.

Then, the day I left, they changed their tune again: no wedding until I saved enough to buy her brother a house.

I said yes to everything and told them to throw the most lavish wedding possible.

On the wedding day, Chloe called me in tears, sobbing and asking why I hadn't shown up.

I watched the sunset over the beach in Hawaii, taking a slow, refreshing sip of fresh coconut water.

"You probably don't know this," I chuckled. "The delivery guy who brought condoms to your hotel room that night? That was me."

"Hi, delivery!"

At ten at night, I knocked on the hotel room door.

I was supposed to head home early, but Chloe had texted saying she was doing extra sets at the gym, so I picked up a few more delivery runs.

The door swung open.

A buff, shirtless guy stood in the doorway, a towel barely wrapped around his waist.

He didn't bother hiding anything, and through the open door, I caught sight of a floor littered with sex toys.

I handed him the bag, and as our eyes met, his face struck me as strangely familiar.

Before I could place it, he caught me staring.

He glared at me, annoyed. "What are you looking at?"

He turned and slammed the door shut. But in that split second before it clicked, my eyes locked onto a pair of high heels sitting right behind him.

My breath caught in my throat.

Those heels were identical to the designer ones I'd bought Chloe for her birthday.

My mind cleared instantly.

It hit me. That guy—I’d seen him once before.

Wasn't he the personal trainer from Chloe's fitness studio?

A buzzing explosion erupted in my head.

A sick feeling crept up my spine. I hurried down to the front desk.

On the lobby security monitor, an hour earlier, Chloe and that same trainer had walked into the hotel arm in arm, laughing and looking sickeningly intimate.

And an hour ago was the exact moment Chloe texted me saying her workout was running late and she'd be home past midnight.

So this was the "extra workout" she was talking about.

A tiny sliver of me had hoped it was just an awful coincidence, but reality hit me across the face like a brick.

I shook with pure rage. I had been working myself to the bone, pulling double shifts just to marry her.

And behind my back, she was sleeping with her gym trainer?

A thought struck me, and I snapped my gaze toward the receptionist.

"Who paid for their room?"

Seeing the look on my face, the receptionist hesitated. "The lady paid..."

In an instant, my thoughts tangled into a suffocating knot.

The agony was overwhelming, mixed with complete helplessness.

Chloe had claimed she was terrified of workplace harassment, which was why she hadn't held a job since college.

For years, I had supported her entirely.

Which meant she was using my hard-earned money to sleep with another man.

Before tonight, I hadn't even touched her, all because she insisted that our "most sacred night" had to be saved for our wedding day.

Watching me stand there in shock, the receptionist asked curiously, "Who is she to you?"

I gritted my teeth, squeezing the words through a clenched jaw: "My fiancée."

Her eyes went wide, and she blurted out, "Oh! But they come here several times a week. I thought..."

She realized what she’d said and slapped a hand over her mouth, her gaze instantly turning to pity.

My fury boiled over. I stormed back up to the room.

Yet just as I reached the door, the sounds drifting from inside froze me dead in my tracks.

"Ah! Right there..."

"Is this enough for you, baby?"

My face darkened. I didn't break down the door.

I desperately wanted to kick it open and drag their filth into the light.

But cold logic took over.

Catching them like this would let Chloe off way too easy. Besides, all the wedding savings were currently sitting in her bank account.

She betrayed me. She was going to pay for every single penny of it.