His Wi-Fi Exposed His Affair,

Chapter 3

Elliot's knuckles went white against the steering wheel. That split second of hesitation was all it took, a dull blade dragging through the last of my hope.

"You told me you'd never been to her place." My voice came out cold, carrying a resolve that surprised even me. "Let's call off the engagement."

Something in those words flipped a switch in him. Elliot threw up his hand and wrenched the car to the curb. Panic flashed across his face.

"Wren, just let me explain..."

I laughed, and even I could hear how hollow it sounded. "What is there to explain? You remembered her Wi-Fi password, and you still lied to my face about never going there?"

He stared at me, thrown off by the certainty in my voice. Then, all at once, his volume rose. "Fine! Yes, I've been to her place! But it's not what you think. I was there to talk to her about..." He stopped, seemed to make up his mind, and pushed forward. "I was planning your proposal. For next week."

The air left my lungs.

Elliot was already digging out his phone, scrolling with agitated fingers. "I wanted it to be a surprise. Now it's ruined." He turned the screen toward me, and there it was: a meticulously planned venue layout for a proposal.

"I've been putting this together in secret for weeks," he said, the frustration bleeding into something rawer. "I didn't want you to find out, so I used Iris' place to go over the details."

He swiped through the photos one by one, and I could see the care in every single one. Champagne roses, my favorite. A custom ring. A miniature model of the café where we'd first met.

My eyes blurred. Guilt crashed over me like a wave.

"I'm sorry," I choked out, and buried my face in his chest. "I shouldn't have doubted you."

He sighed and ran a hand gently through my hair. "Don't be an i***t. How could I ever blame you?"

That night, Elliot was unusually tender, slower and more careful than he'd ever been. Late into the night, after he'd fallen asleep, I slipped out of his arms and picked up his phone, wanting one more look at all the preparations he'd made.

But when I zoomed in on the photo of the café model, something caught my eye in the reflection of the glass display case.

Two figures, blurred but unmistakable. Elliot and Iris, bare-skinned and wrapped around each other, the background clearly her bedroom.

Something inside me shattered, all at once and without a sound.