This New Year's Eve, I brought my boyfriend home to celebrate, only to stumble upon the shocking discovery that he was involved with my best friend.

Despite the betrayal, I didn’t want to create a public spectacle on such an important night. I decided to confront him after the holiday, thinking that I'd better handle things privately. Yet, they crossed the line. Under the poker table, their shameless secret deeds continued.

“William, what if Claire catches us? Wouldn’t that make things messy?”

“Babe, that’s the beauty of our relationship. She’s so dull compared to you. You’re way more exciting.”

Their words pierced my heart. Years of love and trust meant nothing to him. Devastated, I stepped away and made a bold move.

I sent a message: [Ryan, do you still have feelings for me?]

[I do.]

[Then let’s get engaged.]

[Wait for me—I’ll come back home right away.]

Ryan returned and soon we were engaged. At our engagement party, William completely lost control.

——

When I returned home from a holiday market, I stepped into a chilling silence. The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating. What I saw next was a nightmare come to life—William Guy and Anne Crane, tangled together in my bedroom, their betrayal on full display.

The sight was like a dagger to my heart. Anne had been my closest friend since high school, a bond built on trust and compassion. She was an orphan and I had taken her in out of pity and loyalty, inviting her to celebrate New Year’s Eve with my family so she wouldn’t feel alone. I never imagined I was welcoming a wolf into my home.

The image of their betrayal seared into my mind, unraveling every shred of trust I had left.

I was worried they might be hungry, so I rushed back from the holiday market to cook for them, never imagining I’d walk into such a revolting scene.

Earlier that afternoon, my mom wanted to play poker, so the three of us joined her. At one point, he excused himself to go to the bathroom. His phone kept buzzing nonstop. Curious, I picked it up to see what was going on and the messages popping up left me in shock.

[William, what if Claire finds out? Wouldn’t that be a thrill?]

[Babe, women who didn’t go to college are just better—way more fun than her.]

I thought back to the strange tension I’d noticed under the poker table. My heart felt like it was being ripped apart.

Desperate for some stability, I sent a message to Ryan: [Ryan, do you still have feelings for me?]

[I do.]

[Then let’s get engaged.]

[Wait for me—I’ll come back home right away.]

That evening, William returned to the room as if nothing had happened. But the unmistakable scent of Anne’s perfume clung to him, making my stomach churn.

As he reached out to embrace me, the anger and disgust I had been suppressing boiled over.

“Don’t touch me!” I snapped.

“What’s wrong now, Claire?” His voice was filled with faux innocence, as if the events of the day had never occurred.

Forcing myself to stay calm, I said, “Keep your distance from Anne from now on. People might start gossiping.” I bit back my rage, struggling to keep my tone even.

"Claire, we’ve been together since college and we’re about to get engaged. Why are you doubting me like this?” His face was the picture of grievance, his acting worthy of an award.

I had been suffering excruciating pain from my period these past few days and I didn’t have the energy to argue further. Instead, I dismissed him with a casual command: “I’m not feeling well. Go get me a cup of hot water.”

Immediately, he switched to his familiar gentle and attentive demeanor, just like the man I used to trust. “Alright, just wait here,” he said warmly.

As he left, I suddenly remembered I had left my phone outside. I got up to retrieve it but froze in my tracks when I caught sight of a gut-wrenching scene through the crack in the door.

In the kitchen, William was holding the cup of hot water meant for me, but he was passionately kissing Anne.

I was utterly blindsided. Five years of love and commitment—discarded like they meant nothing. And the person who destroyed it all was my best friend of many years.

A moment later, he walked into the room, carrying the cup with a mask of feigned concern. “Here you go, Claire. I even added some brown sugar for your period,” he said, pretending to care.

Chapter 2

“Drink it and get some rest. Tomorrow we can go see a movie together. The New Year releases are supposed to be really good,” William said, his tone dripping with false cheer.

I didn’t have the energy to argue, so I replied dismissively, “Fine.”

“I’ll check if my parents want to join us,” I added casually.

“No need,” he quickly interjected. “People their age wouldn’t enjoy movies. It’s better if it’s just us younger ones.”

The next day, I was running a bit late after packing up a few things. When I finally reached the car, I froze at the sight in front of me—Anne was already sitting in the front passenger seat.

Expressionless, I pointed at her and asked, “Why are you sitting in the front?”

That’s MY seat. She couldn’t possibly not know that.

Anne turned to me, her face immediately adopting a pitiful, innocent expression. “Claire, I get carsick. I’ve always had to sit in the front to avoid it,” she said sweetly, even reaching for the door handle as if to get out. “I’ll switch with you right away.”

Before she could, William stopped her, grabbing her arm. “You get carsick, so you should stay in the front. Claire doesn’t.”

“Get in the car already,” he added impatiently. “We’ll miss the start of the movie.”

I watched the exchange in icy silence, said nothing and climbed into the back seat.

The entire drive was cloaked in an awkward, suffocating silence. None of us spoke.

At the theater, the movie turned out to be unbearably dull. As it dragged on, my eyelids grew heavy and I found myself dozing off.

As someone nearby stood up to go to the restroom, they accidentally bumped into me. I turned my head instinctively—and there it was again. Hidden by the dim light of the movie, William and Anne were passionately kissing, completely lost in their own world.

After the movie ended, I headed straight for the restroom. Anne followed me in.

The anger and humiliation I had been suppressing for so long finally erupted. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Fixing her with a fiery glare, I demanded, “Why are you sneaking around with William behind my back? What the hell is wrong with you?”

She met my gaze with an unsettling calm, a hint of smugness in her eyes. “You two can’t get married,” she said, her tone sharp and unapologetic. “He’s already cheated on you. Even if he says he loves you, a man like that will never be faithful.”

Her words set my blood boiling. My voice rose as I shouted, “And whose fault is that? If it weren’t for YOU, he wouldn’t have turned into this!”

Blinded by rage, I reached out and grabbed her hair, yanking hard as we tumbled into a furious struggle.

Hearing the commotion, William burst into the restroom. His eyes darted between us, his brows furrowed in frustration.

“What the hell are you two doing?” he barked. Grabbing my arm, he yanked me back.

“Claire Loft, look at yourself! You’re acting like a complete lunatic. Do you even realize how embarrassing you are right now? You look like nothing but a shameless shrew!”

His words hit like a slap in the face, leaving me speechless as my fury clashed with a deep, gut-wrenching pain.

My hand froze mid-action and it was only then I noticed the glaring red scratch on her face.

When we got home, my family naturally asked about it. Anne, with a quiet voice, brushed it off, “Oh, I got scratched while feeding a stray cat.”

William didn’t give me a chance to react. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into the bedroom, his tone filled with frustration and blame.

“Claire, what’s wrong with you these days? Why are you always picking on Anne?”

Before I could even open my mouth to explain, he cut me off, “Stay here and think about what you’ve done.”

With that, he grabbed his coat, left with Anne and rushed her to the hospital. He didn’t come home that night.

I lay in bed, my mind swirling with memories. I thought about the sweet words he used to say, the tender moments we had shared, the way he once cared for me. Looking back now, it felt like a ridiculous farce—none of it was real.

We had been together since my sophomore year of college. To be with him, I had made sacrifices. I turned down a much better job offer and moved to his city, believing with all my heart that it was the start of our happiness.

But now, it was painfully clear: it had all been a lie. He had been deceiving me all along.

That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Suddenly, my phone screen lit up with a notification—Anne had posted a new update on her social media.

[Got scratched by a crazy cat, but thankfully, someone was there to take care of me.]

The post included a blurry photo of a man’s silhouette, but that familiar figure—who else could it be but William?

The comment section was flooded with congratulatory messages like [Wishing you two eternal happiness!] The sight of it all made my stomach churn.

I couldn’t bear it any longer. Glancing at the calendar, I realized it was only the seventh day of the New Year. Without a second thought, I booked a flight back to the capital city—the place where William and I had bought an apartment together.

I needed to pack my things and put an end to this relationship once and for all!