He answered too quickly. “No, I am just walking to the gate. The connection is bad. I love you, Bri.”
The call ended, or at least he thought it did. The screen stayed active, showing his shoes, then movement, then familiar laughter.
My sister’s laugh. My mother’s laugh. My father’s deep chuckle. And Kevin, laughing with them like they were sharing a private joke at my expense.
I stood frozen in my kitchen as I heard my mother say, “Did she believe the story about Seattle.”
Kevin replied, “Of course she did. She always does.”
My father added, “Good. The sooner we finish this plan the better.”
Paige giggled. “And the sooner we are on that beach.”
The call finally ended, leaving my reflection staring back at me on a dark screen. I did not scream. I did not cry. I simply stood there, breathing slowly, while the candles burned down to puddles of wax.
Something felt wrong beyond the trip. I walked into the living room and noticed Kevin’s tablet charging on the coffee table. A message popped up with Paige’s name at the top. My hands trembled as I opened it using a code Kevin had never bothered to change. Inside were photographs of Kevin and Paige together in hotel rooms, messages planning secret meetings, and conversations with my parents discussing financial arrangements. There was a digital document labeled House Transfer Strategy and another message that made my skin prickle.
Can’t wait until she signs. Once the deed is joint, we are set. The baby will have everything.
There was an image attached. A medical scan with Paige’s name printed beside the date.
I sat down slowly on the sofa, the tablet heavy in my hands. My fiancé, my sister, and my parents had been planning to take my house, my only real asset, by pushing me into joint ownership and then selling the property from under me. Kevin had even submitted loan documents with my forged signature, planning to leverage my home as collateral for his projects.
The betrayal cut deep, but beneath the shock a strange calm formed. I realized in that moment that if I allowed myself to break down, I would lose everything. I needed clarity, not tears.