But secrets have a way of breaking free, no matter how tightly they’re wrapped. And I was about to unwrap everything.
The ribbon fell away like a promise unraveling. My hands trembled as the lid opened. And my eyes widened in disbelief.
Not just casual proximity. Intimate moments captured in vivid, merciless color. Her hand on his shoulder.
Their faces close, laughing. A sauna scene that looked like something between friends and lovers. Each glossy image felt like a knife twisting deeper into my soul.
“What. Are. These?” I cried.
The ballroom around us seemed to shrink. Alan appeared suddenly, his cologne, the same one he’d worn when we first met, now smelling like betrayal. His color faded, leaving him looking ghostly.
“Selena,” he started, but the words caught in his throat like barbed wire. I held up a photograph. The one where they were sitting impossibly close in a steamy sauna.
“Explain. Now.”
His adam’s apple bobbed. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“It’s not—”
“These look pretty damn intimate,” I snarled, spreading the photographs across the gift table. Alan’s hand reached out. “Please, not here—”
“HERE IS PERFECT!
Explain to everyone how these photos aren’t what they look like.”
“I can explain,” Alan whispered. “It’s not what you think.”
The music halted. Champagne glasses stopped clinking.
And our perfect world had just shattered. The silence was deafening. Guests had formed a loose circle around us, their confused whispers creating a low, electric hum of anticipation.
“Start talking, Alan. Spit it out. I want every.
