Chapter 3: Betrayal on Replay

Not even an hour after the breakup,

a friend sent me a video of him announcing his new girlfriend.

I gripped my phone, my hands tightening involuntarily.

So it was her.

That new intern at the company.

Aubrey, who always followed behind me, sweetly calling me "Miss Natalie."

"Miss Natalie, I don’t understand this report, can you help me?"

"Miss Natalie, don’t worry about your business trip, I’ll look after your cat."

"Oh, Miss Natalie, just go—your boyfriend’s only in the hospital for a few days with a stomachache, right? Why so worried? I’ll bring him meals, okay?"

…

I stared at the cold mac and cheese in front of me, the plastic container sweating on the cheap Formica counter, a thick layer of grease on top.

A wave of nausea rose in my chest.

I rushed to the bathroom and threw up until my head spun.

Disgusting.

Utterly disgusting.

The video kept looping on my phone, the edges of Aubrey’s smile too bright, Derek’s hand on her shoulder like it had never rested on mine. My fingers shook as I scrolled through old texts, realizing all those times she’d been around, playing innocent, she was already working her way in. The sight of that greasy takeout—yellow cheese congealed under the kitchen light—just made everything feel more sour. I pressed my forehead to the cool bathroom tile, feeling the betrayal roil in my stomach, wondering when my life had started to taste so bitter.