Chapter 3

By the time I got home, I had a high fever and could barely think straight.

I didn't know how long I'd been curled up on the couch when Dwayne came rushing in. The second he saw me, his face changed.

"Erin?"

He pressed a hand to my forehead, then grabbed the thermometer. A moment later, the screen showed 102.6 degrees.

"I told you to text me when you got home. Why didn't you say anything? I dropped off your parents and Whitney, then went back to the airport to look for you."

He sounded angry, but his hands were careful.

He dried my hair with a towel, then knelt beside the couch and cleaned the scrapes on my heels with alcohol. I flinched when it touched the broken skin, and he stopped right away.

"Tell me if it hurts. We went too far today. I already talked to the wedding planner. They'll have everything ready again for next week. Just rest for the next few days. I'll handle everything else."

As I watched Dwayne treat the scrapes on my heels, I thought back to college.

Once, I got a high fever after getting caught in a heavy rainstorm. Dwayne carried me on his back for more than a mile to the hospital and stayed by my side all night.

The next day, Whitney joked, "Erin got this sick from one rainstorm? Maybe she's just exaggerating so you'll stay with her."

Dwayne's expression turned cold. "Her fever is 102.2 degrees. You think that's funny? Don't joke about her health again. I don't want to hear it."

Then he tucked the blanket around me and quietly asked if I still felt sick.

Back then, he wouldn't even let Whitney make one thoughtless joke at my expense. Now he was the one making a joke out of my pain for everyone else.

My phone buzzed.

Whitney had just posted a new video titled, "We Pranked the Bride Three Times on Her Wedding Day, and She Fell for Every One!"

The first clip showed me sitting at home alone, waiting for someone to come pick me up.

Then came footage of me rushing into the empty hotel with my wedding dress, followed by me dragging the garment bag from terminal to terminal at the airport.

The final clip caught the moment my face went pale after Whitney told me she was pregnant with Dwayne's baby.

They'd been secretly filming me since 5:00 am. Every moment I spent worried, scared, or humiliated had become content for Whitney's video.

It had been up for less than half an hour and already had over 100,000 likes. Viewers flooded the comments, making fun of me.

"How is the bride this gullible? She believes everything they tell her."

"If you can't take a joke, don't hang out with fun people. She looked dead inside by the end."

"The groom and Whitney make a better couple. She's fun, and he knows how to play along."

A few minutes earlier, I'd gotten a message from work.

The video showed my full name and where I worked, and the client had asked for someone else to take over as project lead. Just like that, the project I'd spent three years working on was put on hold.

I slammed my phone down in front of Dwayne. "Tell her to take it down!"

His expression darkened, and he called Whitney right away. She was already crying when she answered.

"I didn't know people would start attacking Erin. But I already signed a sponsorship deal for the video. If I delete it now, I'll owe 400,000 dollars for breaking the contract, and the platform could kill my reach."

Dwayne fell silent.

After a long pause, he finally said, "Leave it up for now. I'll talk to Erin."

That was the last straw.

"My job is already being affected because of this. What is there left to talk about? She can have the wedding, my family, even you. I've already given her everything.

"And now I'm supposed to give up the one thing I have left so she can benefit from that too?"

Dwayne cut me off, clearly fed up.

"You can find another job. You're always complaining that everyone takes Whitney's side, but have you ever stopped to think about why everyone likes her and no one wants to be around you?

"She's easy to get along with. You can't take a joke, and you turn every little thing into such a big deal that no one can have fun anymore."

Then he left a comment under the video for everyone to see.

"Erin isn't mad. We're doing great, so please don't blame Whitney."

Just like that, one short comment cleared Whitney of any blame and decided for me that everything she'd done was forgiven.

I knocked the phone out of his hand. "Get out."

Dwayne stared at me, stunned. Then his expression hardened. "Erin, you're seriously kicking me out over something this small?"

He grabbed his jacket and stormed toward the door. Before leaving, though, he set some fever medicine and a glass of water on the table.

"Take your medicine. By tomorrow, this will all blow over."

Then he slammed the door behind him.

He still knew how to take care of me when I was sick. He just didn't care how badly he'd humiliated me or how long it would take me to get over it.

He was willing to drive back to the airport in the middle of a typhoon to look for me, but asking Whitney to take down a viral video built on my humiliation was apparently too much.

I went into the bedroom, shut the door, and pulled my suitcase down from the top of the closet. Then I packed my passport and my rebooked ticket.

Dwayne had said it would all be over by tomorrow.

He was right. By tomorrow, he and our seven-year relationship would both be in the past.