Chapter 4: Forsyth Park and Family Plans

During all this, she acted totally normal in front of me. We were even talking about marriage: how much for the engagement ring, which venue to book, which dress designer, where to honeymoon—never slipped up once.

I didn’t sleep all night. The next day, I asked a friend to check out that guy for me.

I remembered my girlfriend saying he was about to get married, so I wanted to verify.

That day, her business trip was supposed to end. She messaged me, saying she was still super busy and wouldn’t have time to reply.

By noon, I saw her finsta update: a landscape photo, location tagged at Forsyth Park in Savannah.

Just then, my friend’s message came through.

He was efficient. In half a day, he found out everything about the guy.

The man worked at a big-name insurance company as an agent.

His fiancée was a teacher at a kids’ learning center, a local, living at home, so they didn’t live together yet.

My friend even got his phone number and Facebook for me.

So yeah, they really were about to get married. Both of them cheating. What a pair.

At this point, I thought it was just another cliché—old classmates meet at a reunion, old flames rekindled.

The guy was definitely a jerk, but one thing I still wasn’t sure of: did he know my girlfriend wasn’t single?

Time to take the initiative.

A cold knot twisted in my stomach as I saved his info into my contacts, labeling it with a fake client name. I sat back, the hum of my refrigerator the only sound in my apartment, and let the weight of it all settle over me. The mess, the secrets, the games—God, I was tired of it.