My Perfect Fiancé Was Living a Second Life in Messages Chapter 04

My Perfect Fiancé Was Living a Second Life in Messages Chapter 04

It was the day before the wedding.

At 6 a.m., the alarm went off.

He got up, showered, and dressed, every move precise.

At the door, he paused for a moment and looked back toward the bedroom.

I kept my eyes closed, feigning sleep.

His gaze lingered for a moment. Then he picked up his keys and closed the door.

Ten seconds later, my phone buzzed with his check-in.

[Leaving now. Breakfast meeting this morning.]

I opened my eyes and checked his calendar.

There was no breakfast meeting scheduled for this morning.

I got up. Got dressed.

I pulled the suitcase from the corner of the bedroom and wheeled it to the door.

I took one last look around.

Every object in the living room was exactly where he had placed it. Neatly arranged.

On my vanity, the engagement ring lay alone in the center.

I opened the door and walked out.

10 a.m. Airport departure lounge.

I held my boarding pass for the small coastal town.

My phone buzzed: [Meeting’s over. I’ll be home for lunch.]

I didn’t reply.

Five minutes later, another message. [I reviewed the wedding timeline for tomorrow. It looks fine. Just rest at home today.]

I turned my phone over and set it face down on my thigh.

The flight left in an hour.

At noon, he got home.

He pushed open the door. The entryway felt strangely empty, her shoes were gone.

“Veronica?”

No answer.

The bed in the bedroom was neatly made.

The closet door was slightly ajar. A few clothes were missing.

His gaze landed on the vanity.

The ring sat there, perfectly still.

James’s chest tightened for reasons he couldn’t explain.

He pulled out his phone and called me.

“The person you’ve called is currently unavailable.”

Second call. Unavailable.

Third call. Unavailable.

His thumb hovered over the screen, his knuckles white.

Thirty thousand feet in the air.

I rested my head against the window. My phone was in airplane mode.

The passenger next to me was watching a movie. On the screen, a lavish wedding was unfolding.

I pulled down the window shade.

The flight attendant asked what I wanted to drink.

“Just water, please.”

As I took the cup, the faint white band on my left ring finger caught the light, the mark left by a ring I had

worn for over a year.

3 p.m. He stood in the empty wedding venue.

Thirty-seven calls, all unanswered.

He called the wedding coordinator.

“Mr. Sterling, all arrangements were canceled by Ms. Hart three days ago. The deposits have already been

refunded.”

He called the bridal shop.

“Ms. Hart canceled her fitting appointment last week. The cancellation was processed in full.”

He called the hotel.

The front desk told him. “The ballroom reservation was canceled four days ago.”

The knuckles of the hand holding his phone went white.

It was completely silent.

He went into his office and pulled up the security camera feed.

On the screen, at 6:52 that morning, I walked out the door, wheeling my suitcase behind me.

I paused in the entryway for a moment.

His phone lit up with a message from Chloe, a selfie with a smiling emoji.

[Boss, what color dress should I wear to the wedding tomorrow? Help me pick!]

He stared at the message.

The light from the screen fell on his face, revealing an expression that had never been there before, revealing

something hollow and empty.

He did’t reply. He set the phone face down on the desk. Then he leaned over, bracing his hands on the edge

of the desk.

His shoulders began to shake uncontrollably.

At some point, he had picked up the ring from the vanity and clenched it in his palm so hard his knuckles

went white.

The security footage kept playing.