Chapter 2Five Years of Love, Shattered by Hidden Truths

He huskily whispered, “Nothing’s more beautiful than you.”

Before I could argue, he pushed me down onto the bed, kissing and biting me playfully. His phone slid onto the mattress within my reach.

It was his WhatsApp, but the account name was unfamiliar—Starry Sky.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I unlocked his phone and combed through the messages and posts individually.

What I found left me reeling.

The posts told a story of a Logan I didn’t recognize:

October 9, 2019: Do you know what I did? I slept with someone else. You betrayed me first, so don’t blame me for doing the same.

I remembered that night. Logan had stumbled into my apartment, drunk out of his mind.

July 1, 2020: I’m preparing for my grad school exams. Don’t think graduating means you can leave me.

That was the day he confessed his love to me.

March 17, 2022: You dared to get engaged behind my back? I’ll never forgive you.

That night, Logan was so drunk he scratched me in a frenzy, leaving red marks on my back.

December 24, 2023: I know you broke up. I’ll always be here waiting for you.

That was Christmas Eve when Logan told me he had a business dinner and couldn’t spend the holiday with me.

My hands trembled as I scrolled to the most recent post, dated two nights ago—the night he left claiming he had work.

“What’s lost will always find a way back to me.”

The attached photo featured a young woman in a plaid schoolgirl skirt with a youthful and alluring figure.

I zoomed in on the face.

It was Wren Keaton, Logan’s childhood sweetheart.

A wave of nausea hit me. My hands shook so hard I nearly dropped the phone.

These five years hadn’t been love. I was nothing more than a stand-in while his heart stayed with her.

Their shared past and youthful romance was their story, not mine.

I had been the outsider all along.

I didn’t cry or scream. Instead, I calmly took screenshots, saved everything, and placed the phone back where it was.

That evening, Logan came to me with a new assortment of “toys.” I turned my back on him coldly.

“I’m on my period. Not tonight.”

Logan smirked and wrapped me in his arms, his voice teasing yet possessive.

“I promise to be gentle.”