A Love Worth $15

For our anniversary, my boyfriend gifted me a white gold Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet.

My best friend, a luxury appraiser, took one look at it and shook her head. It is a straight-up fake.

Fuelled by a nagging suspicion, I asked my boyfriend to send me a screenshot of the digital receipt.

The image showed the official Van Cleef flagship store. Total amount spent was $7,500.

But when I brought the screenshot to our girls' brunch, they instantly spotted the glaring inconsistency.

"The bracelet on your wrist is fake, but this receipt is one hundred percent real. That makes zero sense."

Sarah zoomed in on the image. "Babe, look at the bottom of the screenshot. There is a recommended products section."

She pointed directly at a targeted ad right below the receipt. "He definitely bought two bracelets. One real, one fake."

If he gave me the fake one... then who got the real one?

The mood at the table instantly plummeted. Just two days ago, I was flexing my relationship all over Instagram, posting aesthetic pictures of my beautiful new Van Cleef bracelet from every conceivable angle. Now, I was sitting here holding a cheap piece of metal.

And the man I loved had bought the real diamond piece for someone else.

"Nora, if he really wanted to drop that kind of cash on you, wouldn't he take you into the boutique to pick it out together?" Jess asked gently.

"A typical straight guy buying a last-minute gift would just grab whatever is trending. But Carter specifically hunted down the Guilloch white gold series. He either suddenly developed impeccable taste, or someone else picked it out for him."

Sarah grabbed my hand, her expression serious. "Your top priority right now is finding out exactly where that real bracelet went."

Their words planted a seed of absolute dread in my stomach.

I pulled out my phone and stared at the screenshot Carter sent me that morning. I focused on the algorithm's recommended items beneath his order confirmation.

The product title read clearly in bold text. High-quality Van Cleef dupes so good your girlfriend will never know.

Unless a user actively searched for counterfeit jewelry, the algorithm would never push such a specific product to Carter's feed.

Armed with a terrifying gut feeling, I knew I had to see the actual order history on his phone with my own eyes.

"Nora? What are you doing home so early?"

Carter was lounging on the living room sofa. He opened his arms for a hug. "Did you go out shopping today? Tell me what you bought, I will reimburse you."

He looked at me with those soft, loving eyes, acting as if absolutely nothing in our world had changed.

But there was an invisible, $7,500 receipt standing between us. Until I knew the truth, I could not bring myself to fall into his arms.

"Carter."

He hummed in response, and I casually dropped the bait. "Jess was telling me about this amazing new skincare line. Can I use your account to order it?"

Just like always, Carter agreed without a second of hesitation and tossed his unlocked phone straight into my hands.

"Pick out whatever you want, baby. Consider it an extra weekend treat."

He pushed himself up from the sofa. "I am going to grab a hot shower. Just leave the phone on the nightstand when you are done."

I smiled and nodded. My fingers automatically typed in my birthday to keep the screen awake.

Maybe I was just being paranoid. Carter was the ultimate catch, the kind of loyal guy everyone envied. He never guarded his phone, always told me exactly where he was, and never stayed out late. The bracelet thing had to be some bizarre misunderstanding.

That fragile hope shattered into a million pieces three seconds later.

I did not even have to dig through his shopping app. I just opened his delivery tracker. The moment his account loaded, a flood of unread notifications popped up.

Your gift order is currently out for delivery.

I clicked the tab. The screen was absolutely packed with orders going to another address.

It started with imported snacks and expensive aesthetic home decor, then escalated to fine jewelry.

The final nail in the coffin was an order placed just two days ago. A set of incredibly sheer, expensive lingerie.

Carter had another woman.

I used my own phone to search for the best ways to catch a cheating partner. The internet provided hundreds of creative methods.

Following their advice, I scoured Carter's ride-share history, his food delivery apps, and his download logs. He had scrubbed everything spotless. It was not until I opened his messenger app and checked the hidden folder in the top right corner that I hit the jackpot.

The contact name was Kitty Cat. The profile picture was an anime girl holding a bouquet of flowers.

Carter's last message to her was sent ten minutes ago. Baby, I just gave my phone to her so she can buy some crap. I will text you a bit later.

She replied with an eye-roll sticker.

All she does is shop. Nora seriously treats you like a walking ATM. She does not even appreciate how hard you work to provide for her.

A second later, another text popped up. Kisses, hubby. See you later.

Staring at the glowing screen, my hands began to shake uncontrollably.

I scrolled up. They exchanged hundreds of messages a day. Even when Carter and I were sitting on the couch watching a movie, he was secretly texting her his review of the film.

With me, Carter was always polite, polished, and composed. But in this hidden chat, he let his true colors show.

He used this space to trash-talk his annoying clients, celebrate his financial wins, and even ask her opinion on what pajamas to buy.

Nora does not have boobs as big as mine, the mistress texted. Give me the silk set with the deep V-neck. You can just buy her a similar colored crewneck set from a different brand.

She is so clueless anyway. She will never even notice it is not the women's version of the set.

Three days after that text, Carter handed me the exact pajamas she had picked out.

He had smiled perfectly and said, "The women's set was out of stock, so I tracked down a similar one. Now we have matching couple pajamas."

I had thought it was incredibly sweet at the time. Now, reading the truth, my nails dug painfully into my palms.

The nausea really hit when I saw Carter's response to her.

Well, your big boobs are entirely my doing anyway.

The chat was a cesspool of explicit photos and filthy sexts.

To my face, Carter swore I was his one and only. Behind my back, he was spending his days worshiping another woman. He had put an insane amount of effort into keeping me totally blind.

Hearing the shower water shut off, I stopped scrolling and checked the timestamp of their very first message.

It was from July 18th of last year. A perfectly innocent start.

Carter had asked her, Do you guys carry pink climbing roses? My girlfriend loves them.

Before locking his phone, I casually added two sets of ultra-premium La Mer skincare to his cart, checked out, and tossed the device onto the bed.

A minute later, Carter walked out with a towel wrapped around his waist. "All done? Did you make sure to treat yourself?"

"Yeah." I glanced at him, quickly pivoting the conversation. "Carter, the flowers in the living room are wilting. Which shop do you usually buy them from? Send me their contact info."

I watched a microscopic flinch ripple across his face. That was all the confirmation I needed.

His precious little mistress was the florist.

"I will just pick some up on my way home from work tomorrow," he said smoothly. "It is way too hot outside. I do not want you dealing with the traffic."

He was terrified to tell me, and I did not push him.

When he leaned in to kiss my cheek, I put a hand on his chest and shoved him back gently. "I am exhausted today. Go sleep in the guest room."

Carter blinked, then gave me an affectionate pat on the head. "Alright. Get some rest, baby."

The moment he stepped into the guest room, his thumbs started flying across his screen. I watched the messages sync live to my laptop.

Nora is acting completely psychotic tonight. I just bought her thousands of dollars in skincare, and she kicks me out of my own bedroom. She is so ungrateful.

The other woman replied instantly.

Come over to my place, hubby. I just got a brand new lace set delivered today.

Staring at the synchronized chat logs on my screen, everything felt like a hollow hallucination.

I did not even notice Carter walk back into the master bedroom.

"Nora, a client just called with an absolute emergency. I have to head back to the office and put out a fire."

"Nora?"

I snapped back to reality and gave him a numb nod. "Don't work too hard."

The next morning, I cornered Carter and insisted we go to the flower shop together. He tried every excuse to stop me, but he could not push too hard without looking suspicious. Out of options, he frantically texted a warning to his mistress and drove me to the boutique near his office.

"It is right on my commute, which is why I always buy your bouquets here," he lied effortlessly.

I nodded, looking through the pristine glass storefront. I immediately recognized the woman from the profile picture.

She had a stunning hourglass figure, flawless makeup, and an aura of mature, calculated seduction.

"Mr. Cherry." She strutted over in her stilettos, flashing Carter a sickeningly sweet look. "Is this your girlfriend? She is so cute."

Carter wrapped a stiff arm around my waist. "This is Nora. Nora, meet Katrina, the owner of the shop."

Katrina.

Kitty Cat.

It was definitely her.

After asking what kind of floral arrangement I wanted, Katrina insisted we sit in the VIP lounge for some tea.

She poured Carter a fragrant brew in an exquisite, hand-painted porcelain cup. Then, she handed me a flimsy plastic cup filled with plain tap water.

"Nora, do you have any idea what kind of tea this is?"

I gripped the cheap plastic, glancing at the amber liquid in Carter's cup. Before I could even guess, Katrina cut me off.

"A real connoisseur does not even need to taste it. One breath of the aroma tells you everything you need to know about the brew."

Katrina sat down entirely too close to Carter, her chin tilted up in sheer arrogance, her eyes locked onto mine.

She was waiting for me to make a fool of myself.

So I gave a careless shrug. "Looks like basic black tea to me."

Katrina let out a loud, mocking laugh. She grabbed Carter's bicep, leaning into him. "Your girlfriend really doesn't know her stuff, does she? Does she only categorize things by color?"

"That is hilarious, Nora. You know there are more than just green and black teas in the world, right?"

She reached under the table and pulled out a velvet-lined display box. "This is a highly exclusive strain of aged Oolong. But since you clearly do not understand luxury, you are better off sticking to your tap water. It probably all tastes the same to you anyway."

Katrina was practically radiating superiority. She was talking down to me like I was dirt on her shoe.

Just like they did in their private chats. To them, I was just a clueless, uncultured peasant.

"This is an excellent vintage, but Katrina..."

Carter set his porcelain cup down, giving her a pointed, warning look. "Please do not speak to my girlfriend like that. She just doesn't study tea. That doesn't mean she is ignorant."

Once upon a time, I would have melted at that. I would have thought I had the best, most protective boyfriend in the world.

Now, it just made my skin crawl.

Did he honestly think I could not see their fingers secretly twisting together under the glass coffee table?

"I have some errands to run. I am leaving. You can bring the flowers home yourself."

I slammed the plastic cup down and stood up. As I grabbed my purse, I made direct eye contact with Carter. He instantly read the pure fury in my eyes.

He panicked and grabbed my wrist. "Let me drive you home."

Watching him beg me, Katrina's triumphant smile cracked. She masked her jealousy with a sweet gasp. "Wait just a second! A fresh shipment of ice-blue roses just arrived in the back. Let me grab a few stems for Nora as an apology!"

Ten seconds later, a loud, theatrical scream echoed from the back room.

"Oh my god!" Carter dropped my wrist instantly. He sprinted toward the back room without a second thought. "What happened?! Are you bleeding? We need to sanitize that immediately!"

His voice was raw with genuine panic. He grabbed Katrina's hand, pressing his own palm over a tiny scratch on her finger.

I stood by the heavy glass door, looking back at them. I said his name softly. "Carter."

"Nora, just catch an Uber home! I have to take Katrina to the ER. Those trimming shears were rusty, she could get tetanus!"

He didn't even look up at me.

To save time, he simply scooped Katrina up into his arms bridal style. He treated me like a doorman, marching straight past me and out the door.

Over his shoulder, I saw Katrina shoot me a smug, victorious glare.

I saw exactly how much he truly cared about her.

I stood alone in the sweltering afternoon heat, watching his car speed off toward the hospital. Then, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I knew by heart.

"I changed my mind. I will marry you."