Chapter 1

Elena’s POV

My phone wouldn’t shut up.

It kept buzzing on the table like it was possessed. From the calls, to the texts, and the notifications, they just kept piling on top of each other so fast. I didn’t answer any of them. I just watched the phone vibrate and listened to the sound, over and over, until it started to feel like it was happening inside my head.

I was sitting on the edge of my bed with my laptop open, staring at the screen. The video was already playing again, even though I didn’t remember clicking replay.

It was everywhere. From T*****r to I*******m and even tiktok, I just couldn’t get enough. Someone had even clipped it and posted it on YouTube. Someone else had reposted it with subtitles. Someone else had slowed it down. Someone else had zoomed in. Every content creator did their own part in contributing to having millions of people watch my life fall apart.

The phone rang again. This time it was my mother. This was her fifth call in ten minutes. Before her fifth call even came in, it was my aunt. Then my cousin. Then people I hadn’t spoken to since college. And I didn’t bother to take any single one of their calls.

I couldn’t stop watching the video. It was filmed at Karen’s apartment. I recognized it instantly. I recognized that cream couch, and the small coffee table pushed too close to the wall. I recognized that ugly abstract painting she hated but never took down. And just a week ago, I was sitting on that couch, drinking wine, and laughing, and talking about seating arrangements and which song should play when I walked down the aisle.

In the video, Daniel had her pressed back against that same couch. His hand was in her hair. He pulled her head back while kissing her neck. She was making these soft sounds, breathy and shaky. Her red dress that I had never seen actually, was half unzipped. His other hand was on her thigh, pushing the fabric up.

“God, I’ve wanted this for so long,” Karen breathed in an excited tone.

Daniel pulled back and looked at her. Even through the grainy video, I could see his face clearly. He looked relaxed.

“How long?” he asked.

“Since the engagement party,” she said. “When you gave that speech about Elena. I kept thinking about what it would feel like if you talked about me like that.”

He laughed. It must have been quite amusing.

“You want me to talk about you?” he asked.

“I want you to do a lot of things to me.” She breathed again looking into his eyes.

He grabbed her lips and kissed her again. Harder this time. His hands moved like he knew exactly where to touch her. Like he’d done it before. From her waist, to her hips, and then sliding up to cup her breast through the dress. She moaned into his mouth and wrapped her legs around him and he lifted her like it was nothing.

The video lasted two minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Someone had filmed it from outside, through a window. You could hear cars passing. Someone had been standing on the street, pointing their phone up at her second-floor apartment. The last thing you see is Daniel carrying her toward the hallway. Karen reaches back and turns off the living room light. And that was it.

My phone buzzed again. I picked it up without thinking. A notification said someone had tagged me on T*****r. I opened it.

“@ElenaRivers girl, your man is FERAL. This is your maid of honor???? The wedding is in THREE DAYS???”

I stared at the screen. The tweet had fifteen thousand likes, with hundreds of replies. I knew it wasn’t good for me but I scrolled through the replies.

“She really thought she had him locked down.”

“The maid of honor is lowkey prettier tho.”

“This is what happens when you trust your friends around your man.”

“THREE DAYS TO THE WEDDING? That’s actually insane.”

“I hope she’s okay, this is so humiliating.”

That one hit hardest. The pity. I didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for me. I didn’t want to be a headline or a lesson or a meme.

I opened I*******m and saw my last post from yesterday. It was a video of a wedding dress hanging in my closet, with the caption, “Three days until forever.” As at yesterday, the congratulatory comments were barely up to a thousand. Now it has hundreds of thousands of comments.

“Delete this.”

“I’m so sorry babe.”

“Omg someone tell her.”

“She probably already knows, the video is everywhere.”

My hands were shaking so badly I dropped the phone on the bed. I pressed my palms against my thighs, trying to calm myself down. It didn’t work.

Someone knocked on my door.

“Elena!” my mother shouted. “Open the door!” I remained still, still pressing my palms on my thighs.

“I know you’re in there. Your car is outside. Open this door right now!”

There was no use delaying. I knew my mom too well. I got up slowly. My legs felt weak. When I opened the door, my mother’s countenance fell when she saw me.

“Oh baby,” she said, stepping inside and pulling me to herself. And that’s when I lost it. That one singular move, burst my every restraint. And I cried profusely. And it wasn’t a soft one. It was the kind where you can’t breathe. Where your chest hurts and your throat closes and you make sounds you don’t recognize. My mother tightened her embrace and I cried into her shoulder like I was a child again.

“I know,” she kept saying. “I know.” But did she? Really? Daniel and I were supposed to get married in three days! And Karen was supposed to be my best friend and maid of honor!!! I kept wailing on my mom’s shoulders not being able to speak. I was so weak.

When it felt like I had wailed enough in her arms, I just welcomed her in properly but the door and went back to the couch while she took her seat watching me. My phone rang again. I turned to look at the caller’s ID. Ludicrously, it was Daniel. And for no specific reason, I decided to answer.

“Elena, thank God,” he said. He sounded frantic. “Listen, I know you saw the video but please I need you to understand—”

“Understand what?” I just had to ask.

“It’s not what it looks like.” This time I laughed. This was definitely ludicrous.

“Daniel, I watched you finger my maid of honor.”

“I was drunk,” he said. “Karen came onto me.” How long has he thought I must be dumb?

“You looked pretty sober.”

“I wasn’t. I barely remember it. This is all a misunderstanding.”

“When did that happen?” I asked. At least, I deserved to know how long this nonsense has been going on. Yet what I got was silence.

“When?!” I repeated in a more aggravated tone.

“It was… I don’t know—”

“It was Tuesday,” I said. “You told me you were working late.” I had a faint smile on my lips.

“Elena—”

“Were you lying then or now?” He was quiet again. I just shook my head and hissed.

“ You know what? I don’t care,” I said. “The wedding is off.”

“No,” he said. “You don’t mean that.” I looked at my phone and scoffed in irritation. The effrontery!

“I do.”

“You’re emotional—” the fuck! Well, perks of dating a spoiled bastard.

“I’m clear,” I said. “We’re done.” I didn’t wait to hear anymore of his riling talks. I hung up immediately. I placed my phone down and stared at the ceiling. I was aware of my mother’s eyes in me but I was as grateful for her silence.

My phone buzzed. I turned to look at the new notification and realized it was a text from Karen.

“We need to talk. Please answer your phone.”

I hissed immediately and blocked her number.

Another text came through, this time from Sarah.

“The group chat is going insane. Jessica wants to know if we should return our bridesmaid dresses. Also everyone is asking if you’re okay. What should I tell them?”

I had to reply to this one.

“Tell them I’m fine. And yes, return the dresses. Apparently excited to see my reply, Sarah immediately responded. “You’re not fine. I’m coming over anyway.”

“Don’t,” I typed. “I need to be alone.”

“Elena…”

“Please, Sarah. I just need some time.”

She didn’t respond after that.

“What do you need?” My mother finally asked, after watching me in silence. “Tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

I thought about that. What did I need? And honestly, I needed to stop existing for a while. I needed everyone to forget my name. I needed this video to disappear from the internet. And most importantly, I needed to breathe.

“I need to leave,” I said.