I Vanished Before the Wedding

The Other Woman Had a Key

When Callum finally came home, I was curled on the couch, fever blazing through me.

He switched on the lamp by the door.

"Why are you sitting here in the dark—"

Then he saw my face.

The takeout bag in his hand slipped onto the coffee table, forgotten. It was from my favorite diner—tomato soup and grilled cheese, the comfort I always wanted when I was sick.

He hurried into the kitchen, came back with water and fever medicine, then helped me sit up carefully, as if I might break.

"This is my fault," he murmured. "I shouldn't have gone out drinking with them."

His voice was soft, filled with guilt. "Go lie down. I'll shower first. I don't want you breathing in all this alcohol."

Worry clouded his face.

For one fragile, foolish second, I almost believed him. I almost convinced myself that he really loved me.

Then I caught the scent clinging to his shirt. Roses. Mara's perfume.

A minute later, the shower started running.

Callum's phone remained on the coffee table, its screen illuminating with a message from Mara—just a single character, "1."

I knew what it meant.

They had a streak that lasted over the years. Occasionally, it was a meme; sometimes an emoji; other times, just a single number to keep the thread going.

Everything about it felt practiced. Intentional.

Then I remembered the phone store I walked past that afternoon, where a clerk showed off a feature on the exact same model Callum owned: a second space, basically a hidden phone inside the phone.

My hands trembled as I picked it up.

I followed the steps from memory.

The second home screen opened.

The first thing I saw was Mara.

She lounged on the bed in black lingerie, all bare skin and brazen confidence, staring straight into the camera with no question who the photo was meant for.

Her message, written under the photo, read, 'I'm safe tonight.'

There was no hesitation, no shame, just a single blunt sentence that cut straight through me.

I scrolled.

There was more.

Callum was tearing me apart, mocking our bed, calling me boring, saying I only knew one position, and insisting I never brought any excitement.

Then his next message: 'She's not like you. You know how to have fun.'

My stomach twisted in disgust.

Five years with Callum, and I had never imagined he could wear such a convincing mask.

Five years of dinners, birthdays, family gatherings, quiet nights, and shared dreams. Five years of Mara smiling at me like we were friends.

"Nat!" she would chirp, warm and easy, as if nothing was wrong.

She pretended to like me, as if she wasn't secretly sleeping with my fiance, but her messages stripped away any sweetness.

'Don't you dare fall for her,' Mara had written. 'She's a small-town nobody. Marrying you is already the best thing that'll ever happen to her.'

Callum answered like he was coaxing a spoiled child. 'Relax, princess. I only touch her when she's ovulating.

'Once she gives me a son, I won't have to sleep with her anymore. I'll save it all for you. Happy?'

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe at all.

My head spun. The fever, the nausea, the exhaustion—they all twisted together until I felt like I might fall apart.

Right then, the shower turned off.

I restored all settings, locked the phone, and placed it exactly where it had been.

A few seconds later, Callum walked out with damp hair and a towel around his shoulders.

He picked up his phone, swiped the screen a couple of times, then froze completely.

It was subtle, but I caught a tiny hitch in his breath.

By the time he looked at me, his face had already gone calm again.

He came over and reached for my forehead.

The moment his hand came close, my stomach lurched.

I pushed him away and doubled over the edge of the couch, dry-heaving until my eyes burned.

Callum froze.

For a few seconds, the apartment was silent except for the harsh sound of me retching.

Then a bright, familiar laugh drifted in from the entryway.

"Callum!" Mara strolled in as if she owned the place.

"I'm running away from home," she said lightly. "Can I stay here tonight?"

In an instant, Callum forgot I even existed.

His attention snapped to her completely.

He frowned when he saw her thin camisole and bare legs. "It's cold out. Why are you dressed like that?"

Mara only gave him a playful look, completely unbothered. "Let's go to Veyra Falls to see the northern lights. I've already bought the tickets. We're leaving tomorrow."

Then she stepped closer, eyes bright with mischief. "Actually, let's go to the airport tonight. That way, we don't have to wake up early."

Callum agreed instantly, with no hesitation, no guilt, and no concern for the woman burning with fever on his couch.

Only after that did his eyes flick back to me, like he had just remembered I was there.