His Romance Came with a Forward Button

I had been with Ethan for three years, and he had one unbreakable habit.

Every night at ten-thirty, he would send me a sixty-second voice memo. It was always him reading romantic poems or classic prose.

I treasured those voice memos like they were priceless gold. I saved every single one in a Snapchat folder named "Ethans Lullabies."

I really thought it was his own special, romantic way of loving me.

Until I was planning our wedding, and I found a private podcast on my best friend Chloes iPad.

There were over seven hundred audio files in there. The poems, the tone, even the tiny rustle of pages turning in the backgroundthey were identical to the ones in my folder.

The only difference was the timestamp. She received them an hour and a half earlier than I did every single night.

As it turned out, the exclusive romance I treasured was just a second-hand forward, sent to me after he was done comforting someone else.

I stared at the playlist of that private podcast on the iPad screen, my fingers shaking uncontrollably.

"My sweet Chloe, heres a little Shakespeare for you tonight. Sleep tight, beautiful."

Ethans deep, velvety voice came through the headphones, carrying a hint of lazy tenderness. In the background, there was a faint, distinct click of a Zippo lighter.

I knew that sound too well.

Because on my phone, inside the "Ethans Lullabies" folder, there was a voice memo that sounded exactly like this. Even the lighter clicked at the exact same second.

My hands trembled as I clicked on the upload history.

Seven hundred and thirty audio files. Every single one was uploaded at 9:00 PM.

And I always received Ethan's voice memos at 10:30 PM.

For three years, over a thousand days and nights. He had been recording these sweet lullabies for Chloe at nine, and then, like checking off a chore on his to-do list, he forwarded the exact same audio file to me ninety minutes later.

The deep love I thought we had, the special ritual I thought was ours alone... was just a massive, pathetic lie.

A wave of intense nausea hit my stomach. I ripped the headphones off and gasped for air.

Chloes iPad screen was still glowing. She had lent it to me half an hour ago to pick some background music for my wedding. She probably forgot to log out of her private account. Or maybe, she did it on purpose.

The front door lock beeped.

Ethan walked in, bringing the chilly autumn breeze with him. He was holding a beautiful, vintage paper shopping bag. Seeing me on the couch, he immediately offered a warm smile.

"Freya, look what I got for you."

He took off his shoes, walked over, and handed me the bag.

"That limited-edition vintage Leica camera you mentioned once? I pulled a lot of strings to get it from a collector in Japan. A pre-wedding gift for my beautiful bride."

Ethans eyes sparkled with a desperate desire to please me. He leaned in, trying to kiss my cheek out of habit.

I instinctively leaned back, avoiding his touch.

There was a faint scent of woody rose perfume on him. It was Chloes favorite branda niche, strong fragrance that lingered for hours.

Ethan froze mid-air, a flash of confusion crossing his eyes, but he quickly recovered.

"Whats wrong? Stressing out over the wedding plans?" He gently stroked my hair.

I didn't say a word. My eyes fell on the Leica camera. On its brass edge, there was a tiny, sharp scratch, like it had been scraped by a manicured nail.

Just ten minutes ago, Chloe had posted a picture on her close friends' Instagram story.

It was the exact same Leica camera, with the exact same scratch on the corner.

Her caption read: [A priceless vintage piece to others, but to me, just a little token of his everyday indulgence.]

Looking at that scratch made my eyes sting like crazy.

"Where did you get this camera?" My voice was flat, like a dead pool of water.

Ethan walked over to the kitchen island and poured himself a glass of water, completely unfazed.

"A friend shipped it to my office. I just grabbed it on my way home. Do you like it?"

He didn't even bother to make up a decent lie.

Watching him drink water, I suddenly felt that this man, whom I had loved for three years, was a complete stranger.

Right then, Ethans phone on the counter lit up.

Caller ID: Chloe.

Without hesitation, he picked up the call right in front of me and even put it on speaker.

"Ethan..." Chloes voice came through, filled with tears and panic. "The pipe under my sink just burst! Theres water everywhere, and the landlord isn't picking up. I'm so scared. Can you please come over?"

Ethans brows knitted instantly. He checked the wall clock.

"Don't panic. Shut off the main water valve first, go stand somewhere dry, and wait for me. I'm on my way."

He hung up, turned to me, and spoke in a tone that left no room for argument.

"Freya, Chloe has an emergency. Her pipes burst, and she can't handle it alone. I'll go help her out real quick and come right back."

I leaned back on the couch, looking at him coldly.

"If her pipes burst, she should call a plumber, her landlord, or emergency maintenance. Are you a licensed plumber now, Ethan?"

Ethan froze. For the past three years, I had never spoken to him in such a sharp tone. I had always been the sweet, understanding fiance.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice dropping into an impatient, patronizing sigh.

"Freya, stop being difficult. Chloe is your best friend. Shes all alone in this city. What's wrong with me helping her out when she's in trouble? Since when did you become so heartless?"

As he spoke, he pulled a velvet Bvlgari box from his pocket and placed it in front of me.

"I bought you this necklace on my way home. Be good, wait for me. I'll come back to keep you company as soon as I fix this."

With that, he grabbed his car keys and walked out without looking back.

As the front door slammed shut, the entire apartment fell into a dead silence.

I looked at the Bvlgari box, then at the second-hand Leica camera, and suddenly let out a laugh. Tears streamed down my face, burning hot against my skin.

I didn't touch the jewelry box. Instead, I grabbed my phone and dialed the HR director at our Milan headquarters.

A month ago, the company had offered me a promotion to be the Design Director for the Milan region. I had turned it down without a second thought because of my wedding with Ethan.

"Hi Lisa, sorry for calling so late. Is that Director position in Milan still open?"

There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by an excited voice. "Of course it is! Freya, did you change your mind?"

"Yes. I accept the relocation. The sooner I can start, the better."

After hanging up, I went into my study. I took all the audio files from Chloe's private podcast and the screenshot of her Instagram story, and backed them all up into an encrypted cloud drive.

At 10:30 PM.

My phone buzzed right on time.

Ethan had sent a sixty-second voice memo.

I clicked it. It was him reading Shakespeare. In the background, the sharp click of the lighter sounded louder than ever.

And ninety minutes ago, this exact audio had already been safely uploaded to Chloes private podcast.

The next afternoon was our scheduled wedding dress fitting.

Ethan showed up on time at the luxury bridal boutique, and to absolutely no one's surprise, Chloe was standing right next to him.

Chloe was wearing a chic Chanel-style tweed set, her makeup flawless. She showed absolutely no signs of the "water pipe trauma" from last night.

"Freya, thank God Ethan came over last night, or my apartment would have been a swimming pool. I came today to help you pick your wedding gown to make it up to you!"

Chloe reached out to grab my arm affectionately, but I took a step back, dodging her touch smoothly.

She didn't even look embarrassed. Instead, her eyes started wandering over the expensive custom gowns in the boutique.

The designer walked over with a warm smile, bringing down the custom gown I had ordered six months ago.

"Miss Miller, your wedding gown is ready for the final waist adjustments. You can try it on in the fitting room first."

Just as I was about to take the gown, Chloe let out an exaggerated gasp.

"Oh my gosh! This velvet cape is absolutely gorgeous!"

She pointed to a dark emerald velvet cape on a nearby mannequin, embroidered with intricate gold threads. It was breathtakingly luxurious.

"That's Miss Miller's custom-ordered cape. The gold embroidery is entirely hand-stitched. It took our artisans three months to finish," the designer introduced proudly.

Chloe bit her lower lip, her eyes filled with envy and a sudden, forced sadness.

"Its so beautiful... I guess girls like me will never get to wear something this perfect in our entire lives."

Seeing this, Ethan immediately turned to me and said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world:

"Freya, that cape looks pretty loose anyway. Since Chloe loves it so much, why don't you let her try it on first? You two are about the same size."

The designers smile froze, and she looked at me awkwardly.

I stopped in my tracks and stared coldly at Ethan.

"This is my custom couture. I don't share things that touch my skin."

Ethans brows furrowed instantly, clearly feeling like I had embarrassed him in front of others.

"It's just trying it on, it's not going to ruin it. Since when did you become so petty? Chloe just wants to see how it looks. Can't you just do this small favor for your best friend?"

Chloe quickly waved her hands, her eyes turning red as she played the victim.

"It's fine, Ethan. Freya doesn't like people touching her things. I won't try it. I don't want to make her mad."

The more she played the victim, the more Ethan thought I was being unreasonable.

He walked right past me and ordered the designer, "Take that cape down and let her try it on."

The designer had no choice but to carefully remove the cape and drape it over Chloes shoulders.

Chloe walked to the full-length mirror, turning left and right. Her eyes were filled with the smug satisfaction of winning.

Ethan stood behind her, watching her reflection. His gaze was deep, and his throat bobbed slightly. He had completely forgotten that today was supposed to be his fiance's fitting day.

Right then, Chloe reached out to touch the gold embroidery on the cape.

"Oh!"

With a sharp gasp, there was a sickening rip.

The massive, cluster-diamond ring on Chloes ring finger had snagged hard on the gold threads of the cape. She had pulled too quickly, ripping a long tear right through the custom embroidery. The expensive velvet fabric was ruined.

"Oh my goodness!" The designer gasped in horror.

Ethan's first reaction wasn't to look at the six-figure custom cape. Instead, he grabbed Chloes hand frantically.

"Did you hurt your hand? Did the ring scratch your finger?"

Chloe shook her head, tears streaming down her face as she looked at me in terror.

"Freya, I'm so sorry! I really didn't mean to. I didn't know my ring would snag... How much is the cape? I'll pay you back!"

Ethan immediately shielded her behind his back, like a knight protecting his princess.

"Pay for what? It's just a piece of clothing. Freya won't hold this against you."

He turned to me, his tone commanding and dismissive.

"Since this one is ruined, just throw it away. Go pick a more expensive one, and I'll pay for it."

With that, he pulled out his phone and Venmoed me fifteen thousand dollars.

The notification chimed loudly in the quiet boutique, sounding incredibly mocking.

I looked down at the transaction on my screen, finding the whole situation absolutely ridiculous. Three months of artisan handwork, my months of excitement... to him, it was just trash that could be replaced with a quick Venmo transfer.

"No need. This one is fine."

Without even entering the fitting room, I turned around and walked out the door.

"Freya! What kind of tantrum are you throwing now? I said I'd buy you a new one! When are you going to stop being so dramatic?" Ethan yelled from behind.

I ignored him, pushed open the door, and walked out.

Standing in the cold autumn wind, I pulled out my phone and called my sales rep at the Porsche dealership.

"Hey Marcus, that Macan I ordered... if I transfer the lease to someone else right now, can we close the deal today? Yes, original price. I'll pay the transfer fees. Just make it quick."

I hung up and glanced back at the boutique's glass window.

Ethan was holding a tissue, gently wiping away Chloes tears.

I let out a cold laugh, hailed a cab, and drove away.