His "Female Buddy" Was Fake, So I Dumped Him

Chapter 3

Ever since I'd failed to find proof on his phone, the atmosphere between Sean and me had turned unbearably tense.

He still brought up Sloane every few days without fail.

One day he'd mention fixing her laptop for her, the next say he'd tagged along while she picked up daily necessities.

Yet whenever I pressed for specific details, he'd either beat around the bush or snap that I was blowing things way out of proportion.

My doubts kept snowballing as days went by.

When the weekend rolled around, Sean told me his plans.

"Sloane's got her birthday get-together tonight; she invited a few friends, so I'll be home late."

I stared at his unapologetic, matter-of-fact expression, and all the anger I'd bottled up for ages surged to the surface.

"What time do you expect to get back?"

"Depends on how things go. Head to bed early, don't wait up for me."

With that, he spun around and walked out the front door.

The second the door clicked shut, I couldn't resist the urge and followed him.

I kept a close watch on the bar's entrance for two full hours, watching crowds of strangers filter in and out.

Not once did I spot Sean stepping inside with any woman, nor did anyone show up to celebrate a birthday with him.

I couldn't take it anymore, so I pushed open the bar door and stepped inside to search.

It didn't take long to spot his familiar figure sitting alone in a far corner of the bar, his face blank, devoid of any life—nothing like someone enjoying a lively birthday party.

He lifted his head and caught sight of me, his features instantly draining of color, panic and irritation flashing across his face as his voice cracked.

"What are you doing here? Who told you to follow me?"

"Where's your party?" My voice shook, fighting hard to hold back the falling tears.

"Where's Sloane? You promised a birthday gathering, so why are you all by yourself?

"You've been lying straight to my face this whole time; you came out alone!"

I locked my gaze on his eyes and articulated every word slowly.

"Tell me why you lied. Does Sloane even exist?"

He shot to his feet in an instant and clamped a tight grip around my wrist.

He glanced at the curious stares from nearby patrons, then dragged me roughly outside, his face dark with rage.

"Sloane and I had plans, she just had an unexpected emergency and couldn't make it!

"You're going way too far these days, sneaking behind my back to stalk me!

"Do you really have zero faith in me at all?"

He shifted every ounce of blame onto me, his cutting accusations stabbing into my heart like sharp needles.

He hauled me all the way to his car. During the entire ride home, he didn't say a single word, his mood dangerously grim.

Once we walked through the front door, he stormed straight into the bedroom and slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

No matter how hard I knocked or called out to him, he refused to open the door.

I leaned weakly against the doorframe, hot tears finally spilling down my cheeks.

I dragged myself over to the couch and spent the whole night awake.

His lonely silhouette at the bar, the frightened look on his face when he saw me, paired with his excuses full of holes—they kept replaying on a loop inside my head.

Bits and pieces of evidence started linking together: no trace of Sloane anywhere on his phone, his friends' obvious avoidance whenever her name came up, his vague responses every time he talked about her, and now this fake solo birthday party.

Everything pointed to one single answer.

'This so-called gal pal Sloane is nothing more than a lie he made up from scratch.

'But why would he invent an entire person who doesn't exist?

'Is it just an excuse to stay out late? Or is he hiding some even darker secret behind this made-up identity?'

Sitting shrouded in darkness, my heart ached with a mix of hurt and fury.

I'd poured my whole heart into our three-year relationship, only to receive endless deception in return.

I'd been a fool, shedding tears, fighting and second-guessing myself repeatedly for someone who was never real.

At that moment, the last shred of trust I'd held for him crumbled completely to pieces.