Chapter 2

I didn’t reply.

Instead, I opened that post again and zoomed in on the profile picture.

That ring was one of a kind.

I had drawn dozens of drafts by hand before we finally settled on it.

On the man’s wrist was a limited-edition Patek Philippe watch.

The birthday gift I gave him this year.

On the woman’s wrist was a Cartier LOVE bracelet.

I had gone to the boutique and bought it myself.

One for me.

One for her.

A symbol of our friendship.

Someone asked under the post:

“What exactly did your best friend do to you?”

She replied:

“She's loaded, but all she gave me today was a brooch. She used to foot the bill for my entire party every single year.”

Someone else asked:

“You and your best friend’s boyfriend are cheating behind her back. Are you not scared she’ll find out?”

She answered:

“Back in sophomore year, when we went skiing in Aspen, I gave him advice on how to go after her. But my condition was that he had to spend seven nights with me first. He agreed.”

“The next morning, my legs were so weak I couldn’t even get out of bed, so I lied and told her I wasn’t feeling well. And my sweet, clueless best friend felt so terrible for me, she asked her boyfriend to carry me down the mountain.”

I stared at those words.

Every line burned. My stomach turned.

I remembered that day.

I had rushed to hand her an oxygen can, worried out of my mind.

“Chloe, if you don’t feel well, just stay at the hotel and rest.”

Even Alexander spoke to her gently.

“Don't push yourself. If you really want to ski,

Bella and I will bring you back another time.”

But Chloe rolled her eyes at him.

She insisted on going anyway.

But barely two steps in, her face drained of color.

I couldn’t bear to watch her suffer.

So I asked Alexander to carry her.

I blinked.

My nose stung.

A tear fell onto my phone screen.

I switched back to the chat.

My thoughts were so tangled I didn't even know where to begin.

Just last week, Chloe had held my hand and joked.

She said that as our self-appointed “witness to the love story,”

she was going to drag us at the wedding —

call out every single time we'd made our single friends want to disappear.

I laughed so hard I collapsed against her.

And I promised her that my bouquet would only go to her.

But I never saw this coming.

The two people I had trusted without reservation—

they joined forces to deliver the most complete betrayal of my life.