On my way to the bank, I stumbled across a post:

[What's the most shameful thing you've done behind your partner's back?]

One comment stood out:

[I secretly married my first love, and my girlfriend keeps dumping money into our joint account like an idiot. She actually thinks I'm saving for a house. There's already sixty-seven grand in there. Once she hits eighty, I'm taking it all!]

The flood of likes made my stomach twist. I pulled up my account balance.

Sixty-seven grand. Not a penny more, not a penny less.

So, my boyfriend secretly married his ex.

The moment I realized it, my gut reaction was denial.

Deke and I had been together for nearly three years. Solid relationship. We'd even met each other's families recently.

No way he was the scheming dirtbag from that post. Right?

I came home, still wrestling with doubt, trying to find the right moment to confront him. I didn't even get a chance to set my bag down before Deke rushed over.

"Babe, I just threw another grand into our joint account! How much are you putting in this month? You make more than me—you should be saving extra, right?"

He waved his phone excitedly, eyes filled with anticipation.

My fingers brushed the thick envelope in my bag. Three grand—my end-of-month bonus, plus a little extra for landing a big deal. I'd planned to deposit it today, bumping our savings to seventy grand.

Then I saw that post.

The thrill of my bonus? Gone.

I didn't believe in coincidences. And I wasn't dumb enough to ignore a gut feeling. Once doubt creeps in, it spreads like wildfire.

I took a deep breath and forced a few tears.

"Deke, my numbers were bad this month—no bonus. And my mom's sick, so I sent her six hundred."

I watched him carefully. His smile faded, dark eyes scanning me like I was a math problem that didn't add up.

"You always put in two or three grand. So... you're not saving anything this month?" His voice turned cold. "If you don't contribute, how am I supposed to save for a house and our wedding on my own?"

Wedding. The word nearly shattered my composure.

I wanted to drag him straight to the County Clerk's Office and pull his records myself.

Instead, I shot him a cold look, grabbed my bag, and headed to the bedroom. "So without me, you'll never buy a house or get married? Deke, stop guilt-tripping me. I told you, I don't have money this month."

His face paled for a split second before he recovered. Then he followed me in. "Zoey, I've been saving for two years—for us. Why are you acting like marriage is only my responsibility? Don't you have a part in this too?"

His voice wavered. Defensive.

I scoffed, dropping into my desk chair. "You can still get married without me, can't you?"

I knew confronting him outright was pointless. He'd deny everything, maybe even flip it on me—call me paranoid, insecure.

No, I needed him to confess on his own.

***

When I didn't respond, Deke grabbed my arm.

"You make at least two grand a month. Even after sending your mom six hundred, you should still have money left."

Deke added, "After covering our five hundred in monthly expenses, you can save the rest."

I wouldn't have thought much of it—until he said it out loud. That's when it hit me.

I was paying for almost everything.

Aside from the grand he dumped into our joint account each month, he hardly spent a dime.

I looked up at him and, out of nowhere, said, "Deke, let's go get our marriage license."

Silence.

The kind so thick I could hear him swallow.

His mouth opened, but no words came out.

I wiped my tears and smiled. "We've got enough for a down payment, and we're not getting any younger. Let's just do it. You proposed before, didn't you? Well, I'm saying yes now."

I waited for excitement. A grin. Maybe even relief.

Instead, his eyes flickered with something closer to... panic.

After a long pause, he dropped to one knee. "Babe, we agreed to wait until we saved eighty grand. Why the sudden rush? If we do this now, it'll mess up all our plans."

He was stiff, staring at me like he was waiting for a bomb to go off.

I pulled open my drawer, grabbed the engagement ring he'd given me, and slid it onto my finger. My tone was steady. "I'm just worried that if we don't, you'll marry someone else instead."

A joke.

But from the way Deke's legs buckled, you'd think I'd just sentenced him to death.

He crumpled onto the floor, pale. "Babe, marriage is a big deal. We should take our time and plan it properly. Your mom's sick—she probably isn't in the right state to talk about a wedding anyway, right?"

His eyes darted everywhere. Anywhere but at me.

I patted his shoulder like I was giving him some grand mission. "That's exactly why we should do it now. A wedding would lift my mom's spirits—might even help her recover. You wouldn't say no to that, would you?"

A few simple words, and his flimsy excuse crumbled.

Deke scratched his head, looking like a trapped animal. Then, desperate for an out, he shot to his feet. "I'll call my parents and let them know."

I didn't stop him. Just watched as he scurried off to the study.

Not even two minutes later, I heard his voice—low, hushed.

The walls were thick, but a glass pressed against them worked like a charm.

Suddenly, the muffled whispers came through clear.

"Honey, once you're back, we can be together every day. Take care of yourself over there—I worry about you, you know."

And just like that, whatever hope I had left died.

That tiny seed of doubt? It had grown into something massive, its roots twisting tight around my heart.

On the other side of the wall, Deke kept talking.

"Honey, once you're back, I'll buy you a big house. Don't worry—I've got plenty of money!"

I let out a quiet laugh.

Plenty of money? What a joke.

Sixty-seven grand in that account—more than fifty of it was mine.

***

The next morning, I yanked Deke out of bed, ready to drag him to the County Clerk's Office.

That's when he finally panicked.

Huddled under the blankets, he refused to move. "Babe, this is all happening so fast. I—I think I have pre-wedding anxiety..."

Deke swallowed hard. "Let's talk about marriage later, okay?"

I hadn't actually planned on forcing him to go. His reaction told me everything I needed to know—he'd betrayed me.

I let go of his arm, shoving him back onto the bed. "Fine. Take your time being scared. I have things to do. When you figure it out, we'll go get the license."

Relief washed over his face, like a man who'd just dodged a bullet. He nodded, all obedient, then reached for my hand, voice dripping with fake affection.

"Babe, be careful out there. I love you!"

My steps faltered at the door. A sharp pain twisted in my heart.

Deke had said 'I love you ' a million times over the past three years. But right now, it felt like a joke.

I turned back, raising an eyebrow. "You love me? Deke, love isn't just words. If you really loved me, you'd be getting dressed and following me to the County Clerk's Office right now, wouldn't you?"

I put on a heartbroken expression, dabbing at fake tears.

He said nothing. Just turned his back to me, his tone going ice-cold. "Are you trying to force me into marriage?"

I didn't answer.

There was no point dragging this out. I'd made my point.

I grabbed my keys and drove straight to the sales office—a place I'd visited more times than I could count.

On the way, I withdrew my money from our joint account. Every last dollar that was mine.

Fifty-six grand. My entire savings since graduation.

Since Deke had no plans to buy a house or marry me?

Fine. I wouldn't marry him.

But I would buy a house—on my own.

To my surprise, the apartment I'd been eyeing had just dropped in price. The down payment? Sixty grand. And I could sign today.

I didn't hesitate.

With a steady hand, I signed my name.

Just as I was about to finish the last document, my phone lit up.

Deke.

Without a second thought, I declined the call and went back to reviewing the paperwork.

He must've checked the account and realized the money was gone.

Seconds later, his messages started rolling in.

[Zoey, where's the money from our joint account?]

[That's our shared property. Why didn't you tell me before transferring it out?]

[Send it back right now, or I won't forgive you!]

I ignored him.

Instead, I noticed his position was changing through locating app.

He was running all over, trying to find me.

But he'd never guess—I was out buying a house.

By the time I finished everything and headed home, Deke was still out searching.

I sat in the living room, watching my phone light up over and over. Each notification faded into silence, then started again.

And just like that, the memories hit me.

How we met. How we fell for each other. All the moments I once thought were real.

I thought we had a future. I thought we were in love.

But that post had been a brutal slap of reality, ripping the blinders off.

A notification chimed from the study, snapping me out of it.

I touched my face—wet with tears I hadn't even noticed.

Pushing open the study door, I saw Deke's computer screen. His chat app was open.

Two pinned names sat at the top.

Me.

And Anita Dickson—his first love.

***

Deke was still blowing up my phone.