Everyone Helped Him Cheat on Me for 3 Years

Every night during FaceTime calls with my long-distance boyfriend, I noticed traces of another woman in his apartment.

A pair of pink thongs on the sofa, a used condom on the hardwood floor...

But every single time, someone had an excuse ready for him.

His sister, Victoria, said, Oh, I left those panties there. Don't overthink it, sweetie.

His best friend, Tyler, said, "That condom was mine. Ethan threw a party last week, and I brought my girl over."

On Ethan's birthday, I decided to fly back to Los Angeles without telling him, wanting to give him a surprise.

Instead, I walked straight into his backyard wedding.

A massive floral arch read:

"Congratulations to Ethan and Chloe. Together Forever."

And there was Ethan, standing on the stage, passionately kissing another girl.

I bit my lip so hard it bled.

I pulled out my phone and sent a message to our mutual SnapChat group:

"Who is Chloe? I just received her wedding invitation today."

The group went dead silent.

A moment later, my best friend, Serena, broke the silence:

"Chloe is my friend. I helped her mail the invitations, and I accidentally put in the wrong address. Sorry, Natalie."

My heart froze.

It turned out that for the past three years, it wasn't just my boyfriend who betrayed me.

It was every single one of them.

The moment I pushed open the doors, pink roses flooded my vision, and blue dolphin balloons floated in the air.

It was exactly the wedding I had fantasized about a thousand times.

The bride was surrounded by a crowd. The gorgeous mermaid bridal gown she wore was a carbon copy of the design draft I had kept on my computer for three years.

A design draft I had only ever shown to Serena.

A wave of dizziness hit me as the sheer absurdity of the situation rushed to my head.

Just then, a lady at the reception desk stopped me. "Hi, honey, are you a guest of the bride or the groom?"

Everyone turned to look. The moment they saw my face, a collective gasp echoed through the room.

The bride looked at Ethan, confused. "Who is she?"

"Just a colleague from the New York branch. It was a last-minute invite, so she didn't get a formal card," Ethan replied smoothly. His voice was calm, as if he hadn't just told me how much he missed me on FaceTime last night.

Serena squeezed through the crowd, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me out.

She whispered harshly, "All the family and friends are here, Natalie. Don't do anything crazy. We can talk about this tomorrow."

I stared at her in silence.

Serena dragged me into the emergency exit stairwell before letting go.

"Chloe spent three months planning this wedding. She lost almost ten pounds from the stress. We just want today to be perfect for her."

Her very first words were about her pity for Chloe.

"What about me?" my voice cracked as I stared into her eyes.

"I've spent three years in New York, working day and night, too afraid to even take a sick day. I saved every single hour of my paid time off just to fly back and see him."

Tears fell uncontrollably.

I remembered how she would always see me off at the airport, hugging me and promising, "Don't worry, Natalie. I'll keep an eye on Ethan for you. No basic bitch is going to steal my bestie's man."

It turned out I was the only fool who took that promise seriously.

"Natalie, Chloe is different from you."

"How is she different?"

"You're strong. You can survive without Ethan. But Chloe has a congenital heart condition. Ethan has been the only one taking care of her."

"And when she graduated, Ethan was the one who asked the Chairman to transfer you to New York. He did it because he didn't want you to find out about her and make things difficult."

It felt like a lightning bolt struck my brain. I froze.

When I first got the transfer notice, I wanted to decline it.

I had just bought a house in LA and wanted to bring my sick mother over to get better medical treatment.

But Ethan practically begged me. He said, "Natalie, my promotion to the Board of Directors depends entirely on this New York project. You're the only one I trust to handle it."

"Just three months, I promise. I'll bring you back, and then we'll get married."

So I agreed.

But three months turned into another three, and the distance between Los Angeles and New York never shrunk.

My throat burned with dry pain. "So, the transfer requests I sent to return to LA over the last three years..."

Before I could finish, Serena's eyes filled with pity. "Ethan blocked every single one of them."

I stumbled back a step.

I missed my mother's kidney transplant surgery. I missed the moments she needed me most in her hospital bed. I even missed... her last breath.

My phone buzzed. It was a message from Ethan.

[Go home first. I'll explain everything to you tonight.]

I stared at the words, my fingers gripping the phone until my knuckles turned white.

Then, I turned around and walked right back into the ballroom.

But this time, the family was prepared.

Before I could even reach the ballroom doors, Ethan's sister, Victoria, caught up to me in her high heels.

"Natalie, I know you're hurting, but Ethan has sacrificed a lot for you over the years, too. Don't make a scene today."

Just last month, she was teasing us about when we would get married, promising a massive wedding gift.

Beside her, Ethan's best friend, Tyler, blocked the door.

"Natalie... look, Ethan is a total jerk for this, but all the guests are watching. Do you really want to ruin his entire life?"

Last month, when his mother was sick and he was short on cash, I lent him ten thousand dollars.

He had literally cried, telling me that if Ethan ever treated me wrong, he would be the first to stand up for me.

Now, more and more people blocked my path.

Former friends, subordinates I had promoted, colleagues I used to grab lunch with...

I tried to push through them, screaming and crying like a wounded animal.

"Enough!"

A sharp voice cut through the chaos, and the crowd parted.

Ethan stood three paces away, looking dashing as ever in his tailored suit.

Meanwhile, my hair was a mess, my collar torn, and my dress covered in dirty footprints from the scuffle.

He stared at me in silence for a few seconds. His throat bobbed, and his voice sounded raw.

"Natalie, you can ruin me however you want later. But Chloe has a weak heart. She can't handle stress. Please, I'm begging you, don't do this in front of her."

It was the first time I had ever seen Ethan bow his head.

Once, when a client tried to humiliate him by forcing him to drink a table full of hard liquor, he drank until his stomach bled rather than apologize.

But now, for another woman, he was begging me.

The pain in my chest was suffocating.

With tears streaming down my face, I choked out the words:

"Ethan, you are a disgusting piece of trash!"

I grabbed his collar and slapped him across the face three times.

The sharp cracks echoed down the hallway.

Ethan's face was whipped to the side, swelling instantly. He wiped a trace of blood from his lip. "Are you done? If not, you can keep going."

His tone was almost indulgent, like he was comforting a throwing-a-tantrum child.

Looking at his confident face and the calm, enabling crowd behind him, those three slaps suddenly felt like they hit nothing.

They were absolutely sure I still loved him. They were sure I wouldn't actually ruin him, and that once I threw my tantrum, I would quietly leave.

My heart grew colder by the second.

I let go of his collar and stepped back.

A flash of surprise crossed Ethan's eyes, his brow furrowing. "Natalie..."

"Ethan, these five years, I'll just pretend I..."

Before I could finish, the ballroom doors swung open, and a soft, fragile voice called out, "What... what's going on here?"

Chloe stood at the doorway, looking like a fragile porcelain doll.

The coldness in Ethan's eyes melted instantly, his voice softening.

"Why did you come out? It's cold out here. You shouldn't catch a chill."

Seeing the bruises on his face, Chloe gasped, covering her mouth. "What happened? Ethan, who did this to you?"

Ethan quickly turned his face away. "Nothing, I just bumped into something. I'll have the makeup artist touch it up."

Chloe clenched her fists, her eyes darkening for a split second before she suddenly grabbed my arm.

"Natalie, right? Since you're here, why don't you come in and have a drink with us?"

She dragged me into the ballroom before I could resist.

At that moment, the giant projector screen was playing a slideshow of their love story.

On March 21st, when I worked three consecutive all-nighters just to fly back for our anniversary and ended up hospitalized from exhaustion...

They were watching the sunrise on a beach, kissing in the warm morning light.

On June 7th, when a massive storm hit New York and my flight faced such severe turbulence that I wrote Ethan a final love letter in terror...

They were stargazing on a mountain peak, making vows under a shooting star.

On August 19th, on Valentine's Day, when I was eating instant ramen and spending my last dollar to buy him an apology gift because I couldn't be there...

Ethan was holding 999 roses, proposing to Chloe surrounded by cheering friends and family.

Each picture felt like a burning dagger, slicing my heart to pieces.

I bit my lip so hard I could taste copper, refusing to let them see me cry.

"Natalie, now you know what it looks like when Ethan actually loves someone," Chloe whispered.

I looked at her in shock.

A sinister, smug smile played on her lips.

The next second, the ballroom speakers suddenly blasted a loud, embarrassing moan.

On the giant screen, my face appearedflushed, looking at the camera, doing something private while calling out Ethan's name.

My brain short-circuited. I whipped my head to look at Ethan.

He rushed onto the stage, grabbed a chair, and smashed the screen to pieces.

That video was taken on his birthday last year. He had begged me to record it for him.

He had sworn on his life that no one else would ever see it. Yet here it was, broadcasted in front of hundreds of guests.

Chloe burst into tears, stumbling back a few steps right next to the microphone.

She pointed at me, her shaking voice echoing through the speakers:

"So you're the one... you're the mistress who's been sending him explicit videos to seduce him!"

Every eye in the room turned on me like daggers.

"I didn't... mmph!"

A hand suddenly clamped tightly over my mouth from behind, dragging me backward.

Serena stepped up to the stage, bowing and apologizing to Chloe in front of everyone:

"I am so sorry, Chloe. I had no idea Natalie would be this psychotic. I can't believe she would play this kind of video at your wedding."

"As her friend, I apologize for her disgusting behavior and her cheap attempt to ruin your special day."

With that, she gave Chloe a deep bow.

That bow sealed my fate as the malicious mistress.

The whispers and curses of the guests flooded my ears like a tidal wave.

"So she's just a homewrecker making a scene. How disgusting."

"How shameless do you have to be to play that trash at a wedding?"

"Chloe has a heart condition! What if she has a heart attack? This woman is pure evil!"

I don't know who started it, but someone threw a plate of leftover food at me. Someone else kicked me in the legs during the chaos...

I was practically dragged out of the venue.

Serena ran out after me. She sighed, pulling some tissues from her bag to wipe the stains off my dress. "Natalie, it is what it is. Stop being so stubborn."

"Chloe isn't just anyone. Her family is the reason Ethan is getting on the board. You made a scene today, and with one phone call, the her family can make sure you never get a job in LA again."

"Everything I just did was for your own good."

"For my own good?" my voice was hoarse and broken. "You guys lied to me for three years, framed me as a mistress in public, and you call that 'for my own good'?"

Serena looked away, unable to meet my eyes.

I shook Tyler's hand off me, hailed a taxi, and got in.

When I arrived at my hotel, a crowd was already gathered near the entrance, pointing and whispering.

My face had been printed and pasted all over the hotel doors, alongside massive words painted in dripping red paint: [HOMEWRECKER GO TO HELL]

Within an hour, someone had uploaded the wedding video to TikTok. My real name, job, and address were leaked online.

The comment section was filled with venom.

My boss sent me a WhatsApp message: [Natalie, due to the recent public controversy regarding your personal life, the company has decided to suspend you pending further investigation.]

I clenched my teeth, apologized to the hotel staff, and grabbed a rag to scrub the paint off the door.

The paint was stubborn, refusing to come off.

I scrubbed until my fingernails cracked and bled against the metal doorframe.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.

After a long time, exhausted from crying, I slumped against the wall and drifted into a restless sleep.

My dreams were chaotic.

Countless faces flashed by, finally stopping on the wedding stage.

Ethan was looking down at me as I was dragged out, his eyes completely indifferent.

I gasped, waking up from the nightmare.

I stared at the lock screen photo of Ethan and me for a long time.

Then, I stood up and opened my laptop.

Why?

Why should my five years of devotion be reduced to the word "homewrecker"?

Why should the liars live happily ever after while I was pinned to a pillar of shame, cursed by the world?

I did nothing wrong.

I wasn't going to take the blame.

I compiled all my chat logs, flight tickets, and bank transfers with Ethan over the past five years and posted them online.

Then, I booked the earliest flight back to New York, wanting to leave this cursed city.

But just as I packed my bags and got into a Uber, a voice whispered from the shadows like a demon:

"Natalie, why can't you just learn to be good?"

I froze, the hairs on my arms standing up.

Ethan slid into the seat next to me, his fingers gently brushing my cheek.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. I really am. But baby, you shouldn't have made that post."

I violently slapped his hand away.

Tears fell onto my hands. He flinched slightly, opening his mouth to speak, but ultimately said nothing.

The car didn't go to the airport. It drove straight to the hospital.

"Chloe saw your post and had a panic attack. She's in the ICU now. You have to give her family an explanation today."

He dragged me out of the car, and I stumbled as he forced me into the VIP wing of the hospital.

The private room was packed.

Victoria, Tyler, Serena, and several members of Chloe's wealthy family...

The moment they saw me, their eyes turned into daggers.

Ethan threw me onto the floor right in front of Chloe's bed.

"Apologize."

Chloe lay on the bed, her face pale, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Natalie, I have no grudge against you. Ruining my wedding wasn't enough? Now you're lying online saying Ethan cheated on you? What do you want from us?!"

I stared at her, and suddenly, I laughed.

"Do you honestly believe I was the one who seduced him?"

"I was with Ethan for five years. We were long-distance for three. I don't believe for a second you didn't notice any clues."

The room fell dead silent.

Victoria's face paled, and she quickly stepped in. "Natalie, shut your mouth! Chloe is sick, don't trigger her..."

"Victoria," Chloe interrupted, her voice weak but firm. "I want to speak with Natalie alone."

She forced a weak smile. "I'm sure she's a reasonable person."

Ethan frowned, throwing me a warning glance before they all filed out.

The moment the door clicked shut, the fragile look on Chloe's face vanished completely.

"Five years... of course I knew he had someone else. I'm not stupid."

"But so what? If I, Chloe, want something, I get it."

"I just didn't expect Ethan to be so greedy. He wanted my family's money, but he couldn't let go of you either. He dragged it out for three years because he was too much of a coward to break up with you."

"I got tired of waiting."

She looked at me, her eyes icy and malicious.

"So, I sent your mother a copy of our wedding invitation and the video of us. I told her that her precious daughter was a shameless mistress begging my fianc for attention."

Her words felt like a bomb exploding in my head.

I shook violently, staring at her in sheer disbelief. "What did you say?"

Chloe's smile grew wider and more twisted.

"I wanted your mother to confront you herself, to teach her cheap daughter a lesson."

"Who knew she was so fragile? Before you could even book a flight back... her heart just gave out. She died right there."

"But you're really stupid, aren't you? Ethan told you she died of kidney failure, and you actually believed him. You didn't even check the medical records."

"So, I had to push you a little harder."

"I was the one who leaked that video at the wedding. I was the one who leaked your personal info online."

She pointed at her hospital gown. "And right now, I'm faking this panic attack just to torture you. This is the price you pay for taking five years of Ethan's life."

Every word she spoke felt like a rusty nail driven straight into my heart.

Losing my mind, I lunged forward and wrapped my hands tightly around her neck.

"You killed my mother! You monster!"

Chloe choked, her face turning purple, but she was still laughing.

She reached out, violently knocking a heavy glass vase off the nightstand.

Shattering glass echoed through the room, and the door was kicked open instantly.

"Chloe!"

Ethan's eyes widened in horror. He rushed in and kicked me hard in the chest.

I flew backward like a broken doll, slamming heavily into the wall.

"Natalie! Are you insane?!"

Ethan's eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed me by my hair, dragging me off the floor.

"Get on your knees and apologize to Chloe!"

With the last ounce of my strength, I pushed him away.

I stumbled back until my spine hit the windowsill.

We were on the 23rd floor. The window was slightly cracked, and the howling wind blew my tangled hair across my face.

Ethan froze, stepping forward cautiously.

"Stay back!"

I screamed, leaning half of my body out of the open window.

Just then...

"Mr. Miller! We have a problem!"

Ethan's assistant burst into the room, panting and terrified.

"The... the conversation in this room just now... it was live-streamed to your Snapchat account!"

At the same time, heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Two police officers walked into the room, their badges shining under the fluorescent lights.

"We received a report of harassment, blackmail, and wrongful death. Which one of you is Chloe?"