Chapter 4: Salt Air and Scandal

Savannah and I bought tickets and flew to Key West for a vacation.

We needed a change of scenery—somewhere with sunshine, salt air, and no memories of Carter. We packed swimsuits and sundresses, ready to start over.

The ocean was healing—the world under the waves was beautiful.

We spent our days snorkeling, our hair tangled with salt and laughter. At night, we’d sit on the balcony, sipping margaritas, watching the sun melt into the water.

One day, while we were resting in the hotel, my phone pinged with a friend request.

I was sprawled on the bed, half-asleep, when the notification buzzed. I had a bad feeling even before I checked.

I had a feeling it was Morgan.

My gut twisted. Some people just can’t leave well enough alone.

Sure enough, a second later, she sent a photo of the ring, her message dripping with smugness.

I rolled my eyes, but my hands shook as I opened it. She knew exactly what she was doing.

[Autumn, Carter cares about me too.]

The words felt like a slap. I tossed my phone onto the bed, trying not to let it get to me.

At the same time, Savannah shrieked, ran over with her phone, and shoved it in my face.

She was half-laughing, half-furious. "Girl, you have got to see this."

“Oh my God, Autumn, look at this! That shameless girl!”

Her voice was loud enough to make the guests next door bang on the wall. I almost smiled.

I looked closer. Morgan had posted on Instagram, eyes red, a giant diamond ring on her finger. The caption read:

The photo was perfectly staged—her hand held just so, the ring sparkling in the Florida sun. She looked like she’d been crying, but her smile was pure triumph.

[You’d never let me suffer.]

The comments were full of speculation—who was the mystery man, how lucky she was, how beautiful the ring looked.

While she was abroad, she’d become an influencer. Her followers in the comments were going wild, trying to guess who the man was.

I scrolled through the comments, feeling a strange mix of anger and pity. She was playing the victim, and people were eating it up.

Savannah saw Morgan was provoking me and started roasting her in the comments.

She didn’t hold back, fingers flying across the screen. I watched, half-amused, as she let loose.

“How can a mistress be so proud? Your mom was one, and now you are too. Is that a family tradition or what?”

Savannah’s words were sharp, unapologetic. She never did have a filter.

“Seriously, like mother, like daughter. Look at your nose—it’s all crooked. Go get it fixed before it’s too late.”

She cackled as she typed, not caring who saw. I loved her for that.

...

I took her phone and scrolled through Morgan’s profile.

It was all designer bags, fancy restaurants, and Carter’s shadow in the background. She wanted the world to know she’d won.

The earliest post went back four months, on May 20th.

I did the math in my head, my stomach sinking.

Carter was at an amusement park with her, watching fireworks.

I remembered that day. I remembered waiting for him, the sound of fireworks echoing through the city without me.

My heart twisted.

It felt like being punched in the gut. I’d been so sure he was just busy. How stupid was I?

That day, Carter and I were supposed to go out for Memorial Day weekend. But I got sick—high fever, couldn’t get out of bed.

I’d called him, voice weak and raspy, asking if he could come by. He sounded distracted, told me to rest.

When he found out, Carter just said, “Cancel the reservation. You should rest.”

He didn’t even offer to bring me soup or check in later. Just cold instructions, like always.

I felt so let down, wanted to say more, but he hung up. He never sent a single message to check on me after.

I lay in bed, sweating and miserable, waiting for a text that never came. I should have known then.

I thought he was busy with work. Turns out, he was watching fireworks with Morgan.

The betrayal stung all over again. I wanted to throw my phone across the room.

Honestly, my relationship with Carter had been rocky for a while.

There were good days, but mostly, it felt like walking on eggshells. I kept hoping things would get better.

When Morgan came back at the start of the year, I noticed he was distracted. We fought a lot, but every time, he’d just shut me down, then later try to make it up with gifts—bags, jewelry, whatever.

The cycle was exhausting. I started to wonder if I was the problem.

Back and forth like that, I spent half a year in pain and indecision.

Savannah told me to walk away, but I kept making excuses. I didn’t want to give up on us.

I turned off my phone and let out a long breath. My emotions slowly settled.

The ocean outside was calm, the sky streaked with pink and gold. For the first time in weeks, I felt at peace.

Whatever Carter did from now on, it had nothing to do with me.

I whispered it like a prayer, letting the words settle into my bones. I was done.