Chapter 1The Fake Engagement: Photoshopping My Happily Ever After

The "engagement dinner" had just ended, and my boyfriend made it Instagram official.

I zoomed in on the photo, only to find my wrist sporting a thick, gold Cartier-style bracelet, a heavy diamond necklace resting against my collarbone, and massive diamond studs edited onto my ears.

His caption read: [Even with flawless diamonds hitting record highs today, I still want to give you the absolute best.]

The comments section was blowing up. Our friends were universally praising him as the ultimate provider, a good man who spent every last dime spoiling his girl.

A few minutes later, my boyfriend replied to a thread: [🐶😊 Chloe is my future wife, of course I’m going to spoil her rotten! You know what they say: Happy wife, happy life. Treat your queen right, and the universe rewards you with success.]

I looked down at my bare, empty wrist.

Suddenly, I was wide awake.

* * *

"Babe, you are so fake for this! How are you going to get engaged and not even tell me?"

I had barely stepped into my apartment when my best friend, Sarah, called.

I accidentally tapped the speakerphone button, and her teasing voice echoed through the room:

"Gotta hand it to Liam, though. He’s got serious cash to drop on you. That diamond necklace? And those earrings? Absolutely blinded me."

"What diamonds?"

This year’s New York winter was especially brutal. Coming inside to the blasting radiator heat made my face feel hot and tight.

"Liam’s Instagram post! He’s in the comments talking about 'happy wife, happy life.' Honestly, locking you down is the best move he’s ever made."

With stiff fingers, I opened Instagram. The very first post on my feed was Liam’s official announcement.

In the photo, my neck and ears were sparkling, not to mention the heavy gold bangle that looked at least an inch thick on my wrist.

Gold and diamond prices had been skyrocketing lately. Coupled with Liam’s caption about giving me the best despite the market, it had drawn everyone’s attention.

Liam and I had been together since college, and we shared a lot of mutual friends. I swiped through the comments, but there were too many to read.

The ones that stung the most were from his old fraternity brothers.

Brother A: [Yooo, so this is what it takes to lock down Chloe? She doesn't come cheap!]

Brother B: [Congrats, man! Third time dropping a bag on a proposal and you finally got her to say yes.]

Brother C: [My guy is moving up in the world! When are you bringing the future Mrs. out to buy the boys dinner? We don't ask for much, just keep it to the standard of that engagement ring.]

"Babe? Chloe?!" Sarah seemed to sense something was wrong through my prolonged silence. She asked tentatively, "What’s wrong?"

I looked down at my empty wrist. My eyes stung.

"Tonight wasn't an engagement dinner..."

Right then, a text from Liam popped up. My screen vibrated, and I saw his hesitant message:

[Babe, you home yet?]

[My parents are coming to the city for Thanksgiving. They want to meet your parents. Is that cool?]

[Also... jewelry is just so overpriced right now. Let's skip the expensive engagement rings when we actually get married. That stuff costs as much as a Manhattan rent deposit, it's really not worth it...]

Staring at his rambling texts, my patience finally snapped.

[Then what is the meaning of that Instagram post?]

[We literally just had a normal dinner tonight. Why did you tell everyone we're engaged?]

[And the diamond necklace? The Cartier bracelet? What is going on?]

The typing bubble at the top of the screen appeared and disappeared. After a long time, he finally replied, defensive and irritated.

[Yeah, I used an AI app to Photoshop the jewelry on you.]

[I just wanted to look good in front of my frat brothers and coworkers. Is that a crime?!]

[Sarah heavily edits and filters her selfies all the time. I just Photoshopped some jewelry. Why are you blowing this out of proportion?]

Blowing it out of proportion?

Never mind the fact that Liam and I worked at the same tech firm. Dozens of our coworkers and managers were on his Instagram.

He knew perfectly well that after the holidays, I was up for a critical promotion to management. The company never said it out loud, but the unspoken rule was that they frowned upon promoting women who were about to get married or go on maternity leave.

The corporate ladder was already hostile enough for women, and he had just thrown a massive, unnecessary roadblock in my path.

More importantly—I hadn't even said yes to marrying him!

On the phone, Sarah suddenly gasped.

"Holy crap!"

"Chloe! Liam is in the comments saying you guys are trying for a baby! Is that true?!"

I refreshed the page, only to find that Liam had restricted my account. I couldn't see the post anymore.