The gift I gave was engraved with my boyfriend Lover's name

Becky Owen. Derick Montgomery. BO&DM.

That’s when I realized the initials engraved on that gift set. It was supposed to have been my initials, PO–Penny Ortega. Derick had told me the store had made a mistake, insisting he’d ordered mine. When I suggested holding the store accountable, he dismissed it, saying I shouldn’t be so uptight. I believed him… until I saw the surveillance footage. There she was, a short-haired girl, sitting in Derick’s lap, snatching his phone to place an order. In that moment, I realized how foolish I had been.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Derick had already grabbed his coat and moved toward the door.

“I won’t be back tonight. I’m meeting your parents for dinner tomorrow. Send me the address,” he said nonchalantly, as if forgetting that tomorrow was supposed to be my day to try on wedding dresses.

The next day, I decided to go to the bridal shop alone. As I stepped outside, a sleek BMW pulled up in front of me.

Derick rolled down the window, his gaze landing on my makeup, his brow furrowing slightly. “What’s with the make-up? You look weird.” After a chuckle of discontentment, he flick his head, “Get in, we’re going together.”

I kept my eyes on the ground, trying to avoid any confrontation. My fingers clenched tightly around my bus ticket, but as I started to open the passenger door, the window rolled down, and there was Becky. She beamed, reaching her hand out enthusiastically. “Hey! You must be Penny! I’m Becky, Derick’s girl friend,” she said with an overly warm smile. “Hope you don’t mind me tagging along! He’s about to make the biggest decision of his life, and, well, knowing him since we were kids, he’s got a knack for messing things up. I just don’t want him to pick some ugly wedding dress and ruin it for you.” She laughed, leaning into Derick and throwing her arm around his neck. “If it weren’t for this idiot sending me a last-minute invite with gifts, I wouldn’t even be here. My dad almost wouldn’t let me come.” 

Instead of taking offense, Derick grinned. “Oh, I could just send your dad a gift too. I know what he likes. But you actually love going out with me, don’t you, Miss Owen?”

Their playful, almost flirty exchange twisted my stomach, leaving me queasy.

Noticing my discomfort, Becky quickly explained, “Oh, I’m sorry! Don’t get the wrong idea. Derick and I have been friends forever. This is just how we are.”

“If anything were going to happen between us, we’d have been married years ago,” she added with an exaggerated grin.

I turned to Derick, hoping he’d have the same playful expression as Becky, but instead, his face showed a hint of something like regret. Just as quickly, his expression turned stern as he scolded,

“Can’t figure out the back seat way?” he snapped. “Get in. We don’t have all day.”

As I slid into the back, Derick barely glanced in the rearview mirror, his face hardening into an expression I barely recognized. Becky settled comfortably in the passenger seat, as though she belonged there. I closed my eyes, brushing off the unease weighting me down.

Then, my favorite love song from the ’80s started playing—a tune that had been a big hit back in the day, one I’d often heard at community events and even weddings.

“Oh my god, you listen to this crap?” Becky scoffed, immediately turning off the music and casting a look of disgust toward Derick. “Only hillbillies listen to this tacky melody. We’re supposed to be trendy. This is far from it. Ever thought about rock? Or at least pop?”

Derick chuckled. “Penny picked everything in there,” he replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. “She’s a country girl, anyway. Doubt she’d know what’s trendy.”

My nails dug into my palms. Yes, I was a country girl, raised in the simplicity of nature, without a grasp on city folks’ lifestyles. I remembered how people had laughed at me during our university dinner event when I used a spoon to eat my salad. Derick had taken it from me quietly, replaced it with a fork, and told me not to care what people thought. He’d said that the way a person eats has nothing to do with character. That night, I’d learned just how cruel the world could be. But I hadn’t cared back then, because I believed I could be myself around him.

Now I was being myself, and the words country girl rolled off his tongue like an accusation. I didn’t blame him for feeling differently. I only resented how time could twist things so easily. His protection had once felt real, and now, so did his betrayal.

Maybe I’d stayed silent for too long.

Derick’s lips pressed together in irritation. “What’s with the attitude? You’re mad again just because a song?”