Betrayed on My Wedding Day

I couldn't watch that disgusting scene a second longer.

I curled my hands into fists and forced myself to breathe steady.

I don't know how much time passed before Dennis came back.

He locked the door behind him and threw the keys down hard on the shoe cabinet.

He crouched in front of the couch and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"I'm sorry, Angela. I never thought she'd have the nerve to show up in front of you. I cursed her out and sent her away."

Dennis lifted his head. "Don't worry. As long as I'm here, she won't take one more step toward hurting you."

I looked at his lips, faintly red, and the mark on his collar.

Suddenly it all felt so pointless. Tangling with garbage—you win and you've still lost.

"Okay. I believe you."

I pretended to go along with it. I already knew what I was going to do.

"What do you want for lunch? I'll make it."

Dennis stood up.

"I want barbecue ribs," I said.

Dennis went into the kitchen. Water started running as he washed the vegetables.

I took out my phone and called Grandma Abbott.

"Grandma, are you home?"

"I'm home. What's the occasion, Angela, calling like this?"

Grandma's voice came through.

"I want to come back."

"Is Dennis coming back with you?"

"No. I'm coming by myself. I'm planning to quit the job here. I'll be staying for good."

"All right. I'll make up your bed for you."

After I hung up, I opened the ticket app and bought a bus ticket to the small town.

For the last three days, I didn't bring up Hailey again, and I didn't bring up going to the police.

Every morning I got up early to make Dennis noodles, and every night I ironed his clothes and hung them in the closet.

Dennis watched me and smiled while he ate.

"Baby, you finally came around. Let's just live our lives from now on and forget about the past."

Dennis said.

I nodded. "Eat up. The noodles are getting cold."

The last night before I left.

I was sitting on the couch.

My phone screen lit up.

A video message.

The sender was an unknown number.

I opened the video.

The picture showed a hotel bed.

Dennis had his eyes closed.

"Dennis, between me and Angela, who makes you feel better?"

Hailey asked in the video.

Dennis didn't open his eyes. He rolled over and pulled her into his arms.

"Why bring her up right now? She's a block of wood. In bed she's like a corpse. She could never let go the way you do."

Dennis's voice came through clearly. "Stop talking. Again."

Hailey gave the camera a little smile and laid the phone face-down on the table.

Then, from the dark screen, came sounds no one should have to hear.

Right after, that number sent a text.

【Angela, did you see it? Your man is already disgusted with you now that another man has had you.】

【He's in my bed every day now. He's coming to me again tonight. Do you want to come watch?】

I gripped the phone, my nails digging into my palm.

The running water in the kitchen stopped.

Dennis dried his hands and came out.

He glanced at his phone.

He went into the bedroom to get his jacket.

"Angela, there's a huge bug on the company server. My manager wants me to go in right now. Go to sleep early. Don't wait up for me."

"You have to go in this late?"

I asked from the couch.

"Nothing I can do. That's just how this line of work is."

Dennis walked to the door and put on his shoes.

He came back to me, bent down, and kissed my forehead.

"Baby, be good and wait at home for me to come back."

The lock clicked shut.

The footsteps in the hallway faded away.

I didn't hesitate any longer.

I packed my suitcase fast and headed for the bus station.

Eleven-thirty at night.

Dennis walked in carrying a bag of barbecue.

The apartment was pitch dark.

"Angela, I'm back. Look, I got you grilled vegetables—"

Dennis flipped the switch on the wall.

The living room lit up. There was no one there.

Dennis froze for a second, then strode into the bedroom.

"Angela?"

No one on the bed, the blanket folded neatly.

He turned and slid open the closet door.

The left half was empty.

He rushed into the bathroom.

Half the things on the counter were gone.

He ran back to the living room and saw the diamond ring and the bank card on the coffee table right away.

He pulled out his phone, fingers shaking, and dialed my number.

A cold woman's voice came through the speaker:

"We're sorry. The number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and try again."

Dennis hung up and dialed again.

"We're sorry. The number you have dialed is not in service—"