I Faked My Death to Run away from My Cheater Fiancè

The cold air stung my cheeks as I adjusted the scarf over my face, hiding in plain sight. It was a pathetic irony—me, Layla Reid, the model whose face was plastered on billboards and magazines, now trying to disappear into the crowd. Colton Locke, the man who once promised to love me forever, had replaced me with an internet celebrity. A nobody. And yet, here I was, the one hiding.

My feet moved on their own, carrying me down streets I barely noticed until I came to a crosswalk. As I stepped forward, my gaze lifted, and I stopped dead in my tracks. There it was—a massive billboard looming over the street.

Our engagement proposal.

Colton kneeling with that perfect smile, holding the diamond ring he claimed was as eternal as his love. My face glowed with joy, frozen in time, a façade for the world to admire. To everyone else, we were the dream couple—beautiful, successful, untouchable. But I knew better now. That billboard was a lie, a monument to a love that had rotted away long before anyone noticed.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I wanted to look away, but my feet wouldn’t move. The memories rushed in, drowning me.

It was Colton’s birthday, two years ago. I’d just flown in from New York, exhausted but excited to surprise him. I remember the box in my hands—a cake I’d picked up from his favorite bakery, along with a handwritten note tucked inside. I couldn’t wait to see his face when I walked into his office, unannounced, with the things he loved most in the world: me and chocolate mousse cake.

But the moment I opened the door, the world I’d built around him began to crumble.

The room was dimly lit, and at first, I didn’t understand what I was seeing. I heard noises—soft, rhythmic, almost melodic. My eyes adjusted, and then I saw them. Colton and Georgia.

Colton’s back was to me, shirtless, his body moving with hers. Georgia was beneath him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her face tilted toward the ceiling. She saw me first.

And she smiled.

Not a look of shock or embarrassment—just a slow, deliberate smile that made my stomach turn. Then, as if to drive the knife in deeper, she moaned. Loudly.

Colton didn’t even notice me. He didn’t pause, didn’t turn, didn’t care that someone else was in the room. My fiancé was so consumed by his betrayal that I became invisible.

I wanted to scream, to cry, to demand answers. But all I could do was stand there, my heart breaking into pieces I didn’t know how to gather.

I walked out without a word. My legs carried me through the hallways and out of the building, but my mind stayed behind, replaying the scene over and over. For weeks, I told myself it was a mistake, that Colton would come to his senses, that he’d beg for forgiveness.

He never did.

Instead, he kept lying, kept sneaking around with Georgia while pretending to be the doting fiancé in public. And I kept pretending not to notice because I couldn’t bear the humiliation of people knowing the truth.

The billboard blurred through the haze of my tears. Two years. That’s how long I’d endured the lies, the gaslighting, the stolen glances at his phone when he thought I wasn’t looking. Two years of clinging to a relationship that had become a prison.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand and forced myself to keep walking. But my chest ached with the weight of everything I’d suppressed. How many times had I walked into a room and felt like I wasn’t enough? How many times had Colton made me feel like I had to fight for a love that should have been mine without question?

I didn’t realize I’d stepped into the street until I heard the horn.

The blaring noise jolted me, but I couldn’t move. A truck was barreling toward me, its headlights cutting through the fog. People on the sidewalk shouted, their voices blending into a distant hum, but my feet stayed rooted in place.

I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the inevitable. Maybe this was how it was meant to end. Maybe the pain would stop if I just let go.