While I was on bed rest for the pregnancy, my husband's first love suddenly showed up.

When I caught them red-handed, the woman had the audacity to speak with confidence.

"I'm about to get married, I just wanted to create one last beautiful memory with Edward. Why are you interfering?"

She crossed half of Tanaxes for true love. How touching.

I can only imagine how her unlucky fiancé must feel about all this.

I couldn't take it anymore.

Forget the baby. I didn't want it. You can have the cheating scumbag, but I'm getting every penny that's owed to me!

...

I never thought I'd be the one at the center of the drama I loved to watch.

While stuck on bed rest, bored out of my mind, I'd scroll through videos all day.

Then one day, I stumbled across a relationship influencer I followed, saying she was going to meet her ex-boyfriend one last time before her wedding, just to make another "beautiful memory."

They'd been high school sweethearts. They were each other's first love but were forced to break up over a dowry dispute.

She often shared their past romance online, painting a picture so beautifully nostalgic it resonated with thousands of viewers.

I'm a straightforward person and never had one of those romantic relationships. My life was always about work, clients, and contracts.

Guess we seek what we lack, so I found myself hooked on these love stories.

I froze when I saw the latest post of the two holding hands, having reunited after traveling miles.

The photo was crystal clear. I knew the man's hand all too well. The ring he wore especially matched the one I was wearing.

It was our custom-made wedding ring.

More photos showed them hugging and making heart shapes with their hands.

They didn't show his face, but I knew that build, that outfit was my husband, Edward Collins.

And the location? It was the very city where Edward had said he was going for a business trip.

I quickly changed out of my hospital gown and jumped in the car, heading straight for the neighboring city.

Catching a cheater requires speed. If you're too late, you'll have to wait for the next time.

The blogger kept sharing updates on the situation.

After their romantic dinner, pictures of a couples' hotel were posted.

There was even a caption along with the pictures.

"Oh my god, my dream is coming true! I'm so nervous, wish me luck, everyone! (blushing.jpg)"

Well, that's a "refreshingly" unconventional dream.

The comments from this generation of netizens were truly mind-blowing.

There were a few skeptical voices here and there.

"Wait, the guy's wearing a ring. Is he married?"

"What about your fiancé?"

But those got drowned out quickly by a flood of well-wishes.

"True love is innocent! I'm rooting for you, girl!"

"Meeting across miles, this is just too romantic!"

"I have an ex I can't forget too, I should find him before my wedding!"

I couldn't be bothered with these dumb comments anymore. I drove straight into the hotel's parking lot.

For convenience, Edward and I had synced our locations in the past so we could track each other.

But after the initial novelty, we barely used it.

He probably forgot about it by now, but I never thought it'd come in handy today.

Even if that person hadn't posted the hotel photo, I could still find this cheating jerk.

Sure enough, I immediately spotted his black Benz in the parking lot. It was hard to miss.

I went straight to the reception desk with my ID and gave them Edward's ID number.

"My husband booked a room earlier, but I can't reach him. Can you check which room he's in?"

The receptionist quickly provided the room number. "1314."

Quite funny.

As luck would have it, I ran into a food delivery guy in the elevator.

"200 dollars. Help me knock on this door."

He was a good sport, agreed to the deal, and even offered to hold down the jerk for me.

Edward opened the door, completely confused, and called back into the room, "Did you order food?"

Then he noticed me standing at the door.

I walked in with my phone recording the whole scene.

There was no one in the room. The bed was covered in a pile of women's clothes, including matching pink lingerie.

Classy. The bathroom was practically all glass, with just some frosted glass for privacy.

A woman's silhouette was visible inside. "I didn't order food. Must be a mistake."

I kicked the bathroom door open, and a scream erupted.

She took a moment to react, then grabbed the showerhead to try and spray me. I had already recorded everything I needed, so I turned and walked out.

The delivery guy asked if I still needed help. I tipped him an extra 500 dollars and signaled that I could handle it from here.

By then, Edward finally found the time to come face me.

His expression was a mess. The shame, guilt, and maybe even a hint of blame?

"Freya, why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be on bed rest at the hospital?"

I almost laughed in disbelief. "Yeah, I'm on bed rest, and you're here for a romantic rendezvous with your ex?"

"It's not what you think."

"I only trust what I see. If it wasn't planned, are you saying you just happened to run into each other while you were out doing business?"

As we spoke, the woman came out, now wearing a bathrobe, and stood beside Edward. "There's nothing between us, Freya. Don't think so dirty."

I glanced at the pile of clothes on the bed. This woman had some nerve.

"What, are you seriously going to tell me you booked this room just to chat? You might as well ask a dog if it believes that."

Edward's face darkened. "Freya, don't talk like that."

The woman's eyes welled up with tears, putting on a pitiful act. "I'm Edward's ex. We were together for seven years and were forced apart. I came to see him before marriage just to create one last beautiful memory. Why do you have to ruin my final hope?"

"Last hope? Are you dying of a terminal illness? Who do you think you are that I should indulge you? I'd love to swap husbands every day. Who's going to make that happen for me?"

The woman opened her mouth to speak again, but I had no interest in hearing more.

I looked directly at Edward. "If you have anything to say, get rid of this disgusting thing first. It's sickening to look at."

Edward pressed his lips together and gently coaxed her to leave.

"Freya, let me explain."

I waved him off. "I don't want to hear it. Let's just get a divorce. I'm heading back, you can come by to sign the papers later."

With that, I walked out the door.