My Boyfriend Cheated with My Best Friend, So I Got Engaged to My Childhood Sweetheart

“Drink it and get some rest. Tomorrow we can go see a movie together. The New Year releases are supposed to be really good,” William said, his tone dripping with false cheer.

I didn’t have the energy to argue, so I replied dismissively, “Fine.”

“I’ll check if my parents want to join us,” I added casually.

“No need,” he quickly interjected. “People their age wouldn’t enjoy movies. It’s better if it’s just us younger ones.”

The next day, I was running a bit late after packing up a few things. When I finally reached the car, I froze at the sight in front of me—Anne was already sitting in the front passenger seat.

Expressionless, I pointed at her and asked, “Why are you sitting in the front?”

That’s MY seat. She couldn’t possibly not know that.

Anne turned to me, her face immediately adopting a pitiful, innocent expression. “Claire, I get carsick. I’ve always had to sit in the front to avoid it,” she said sweetly, even reaching for the door handle as if to get out. “I’ll switch with you right away.”

Before she could, William stopped her, grabbing her arm. “You get carsick, so you should stay in the front. Claire doesn’t.”

“Get in the car already,” he added impatiently. “We’ll miss the start of the movie.”

I watched the exchange in icy silence, said nothing and climbed into the back seat.

The entire drive was cloaked in an awkward, suffocating silence. None of us spoke.

At the theater, the movie turned out to be unbearably dull. As it dragged on, my eyelids grew heavy and I found myself dozing off.

As someone nearby stood up to go to the restroom, they accidentally bumped into me. I turned my head instinctively—and there it was again. Hidden by the dim light of the movie, William and Anne were passionately kissing, completely lost in their own world.

After the movie ended, I headed straight for the restroom. Anne followed me in.

The anger and humiliation I had been suppressing for so long finally erupted. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Fixing her with a fiery glare, I demanded, “Why are you sneaking around with William behind my back? What the hell is wrong with you?”

She met my gaze with an unsettling calm, a hint of smugness in her eyes. “You two can’t get married,” she said, her tone sharp and unapologetic. “He’s already cheated on you. Even if he says he loves you, a man like that will never be faithful.”

Her words set my blood boiling. My voice rose as I shouted, “And whose fault is that? If it weren’t for YOU, he wouldn’t have turned into this!”

Blinded by rage, I reached out and grabbed her hair, yanking hard as we tumbled into a furious struggle.

Hearing the commotion, William burst into the restroom. His eyes darted between us, his brows furrowed in frustration.

“What the hell are you two doing?” he barked. Grabbing my arm, he yanked me back.

“Claire Loft, look at yourself! You’re acting like a complete lunatic. Do you even realize how embarrassing you are right now? You look like nothing but a shameless shrew!”

His words hit like a slap in the face, leaving me speechless as my fury clashed with a deep, gut-wrenching pain.

My hand froze mid-action and it was only then I noticed the glaring red scratch on her face.

When we got home, my family naturally asked about it. Anne, with a quiet voice, brushed it off, “Oh, I got scratched while feeding a stray cat.”

William didn’t give me a chance to react. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into the bedroom, his tone filled with frustration and blame.

“Claire, what’s wrong with you these days? Why are you always picking on Anne?”

Before I could even open my mouth to explain, he cut me off, “Stay here and think about what you’ve done.”

With that, he grabbed his coat, left with Anne and rushed her to the hospital. He didn’t come home that night.

I lay in bed, my mind swirling with memories. I thought about the sweet words he used to say, the tender moments we had shared, the way he once cared for me. Looking back now, it felt like a ridiculous farce—none of it was real.

We had been together since my sophomore year of college. To be with him, I had made sacrifices. I turned down a much better job offer and moved to his city, believing with all my heart that it was the start of our happiness.

But now, it was painfully clear: it had all been a lie. He had been deceiving me all along.