The Cheat Caught in My Network

I caught a confession meant for my boyfriend in the backend of the anonymous campus gossip app I run. At first, I was secretly thrilled, feeling pretty smug that he was such a hot commodity.

But then the girl dropped a follow-up comment the very next day.

[ Thanks for the post, admin! We're officially together. ]

I slowly shifted my gaze to my boyfriend sitting right next to me, a sudden, icy chill crawling down my spine.

Chapter 1

I ran our university's anonymous gossip account because I found watching people publicly flirt highly entertaining. I kept my identity a total secret. If people knew I was behind the screen, the magic would dieand worse, Id miss out on the juicy drama unfolding in my own friend group.

But I never expected a girl to use my own platform to hit on my boyfriend.

The post was bold. It basically read: "Dylan from the business school, I want to be your hot girl. I've wanted you for a long time." She attached a photo of a guy's back.

Id recognize those shoulders anywhere. It was him.

At first, I felt a smug sense of pride. My taste was impeccable; my man was a certified hot commodity. I shrugged it off and wiped it from my mind.

Until the very next day, when she slid back into the account's DMs.

[ Thanks for the post, admin! We're officially together. Just wanted to update you, no need to publish this! ]

What the hell?

I slowly shifted my gaze to Dylan, who sat across the table chewing his burger. "Dylan," I started, studying his face. "How have things been with you lately?"

He blinked, a fry halfway to his mouth. "What do you mean? I'm with you every single day."

Exactly. Which made the whole thing even more absurd. The reason Id brushed off the post was that Dylan wasn't the cheating type. He checked in constantly.

He dropped everything when I needed him. His phone didn't even have a passcode, and he left it lying around for me to see.

We had been together for nearly six years, navigating from high school all the way to our junior year of college. We already had a pact to get married after graduation. A guy like that doesn't just step out. I refused to believe it.

I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. I needed to approach this from the girls end. Maybe she mistook someone else for him, or maybe it was just a massive misunderstanding. So, I logged into a burner account and sent her a friend request, setting my note as 'Dylan's friend.'

She accepted almost immediately. But her response was guardedjust a single question mark in my DMs.

I typed back:

[ No worries, Dylan told me to add you. He can't really text right now. ]

She didn't pry. She just sent:

[ Oh. ]

That single word made the hairs on my arms stand up. A normal person getting a weird message like that would ask questions. She didn't question it at all. Just Oh.

Call it female intuition, but two distant memories suddenly snapped into sharp focus.

About a year and a half ago, a girl showed up to model at Dylans frat photography party. I remembered seeing the final shots and actually complimenting her. "Cute girl," I had told him.

Then, a year ago, Dylan randomly clipped a little plush duck to his backpack. I noticed it immediately because it was so out of character. "Dylan, since when do you like stuffed animals?" I had asked.

He just squeezed it, not making eye contact. "Saw it the other day and thought it was cool. You like it? You can have it."

"Keep it if you like it," I had replied.

Two entirely mundane events, suddenly flashing like neon warning signs. I remembered the model. She was an underclassman in his program. Wed bump into her on campus sometimes, and shed always wave and say hi to us both.

I pulled up the girls Instagram profile. It was scrubbed clean. No posts, no stories. It looked exactly like a burner account used for fishing.

After parting ways with Dylan, I walked back to my dorm, pulling up his frats Facebook group on my phone. I scrolled back through a year and a half of posts until I found the pictures from that party. I dug into the comments, found one of her classmates, and used the likes on that account to finally track down the girl's actual, main profile.

I swiped through her grid. She had a boyfriend.

I zoomed in on his face, my pulse picking up speed. The guy looked incredibly familiar. He was in Dylan's graduating class.

I locked my screen. Maybe I was just spiraling. Maybe it wasn't even her.

Chapter 2

But scrolling through her grid, I found a picture of a little plush duck. The exact same duck Dylan had clipped to his backpack.

Are you kidding me?!

Once suspicion takes root, everything starts looking like a red flag.

Dylan and I were in different majors, so our schedules didn't naturally align. We shared our calendars and always picked times when we were both free to hang out. One day, I picked out one of his blow-off electives and sneaked in. I wore a mask and a baseball cap, grabbing a seat in the back corner of the lecture hall way before it started.

I watched the door like a hawk as students filed in one by one.

Dylan never walked through that door.

At first, I held out hope. Maybe he just skipped. Ten minutes into the lecture, the professor pulled out the roster and started calling roll. His name wasn't on it.

I swear to god I listened to every single syllable. Dylans name was never called.

Up until this moment, I had treated this like a piece of juicy gossip. I felt like an outsider watching a ridiculous soap opera. But sitting in that freezing lecture hall, the truth slammed into me.

This was real.

Five years together. Thousands of days and nights I thought were built on love. While I was smiling and planning our future, he was probably watching me with dead eyes, calculating his exit strategy.

I bit down hard on the inside of my lip. I didn't stop until I tasted copper, forcing the burning sting back from my eyes. Since the lecture was ongoing, I kept my head down, burying my face in my arms to hide my trembling shoulders.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I jumped, snapping my head up and waving my hands. "Sorry, sorry. I'm fine."

He slid a pack of tissues across the desk. "Here."

As I mumbled a thank you, I actually looked at the guy sitting next to me. My breath hitched. It was her boyfriend. He clearly didn't recognize me as Dylans girlfriend.

After politely offering the tissues, he turned his attention back to the professor.

"Hey," I whispered. "I'm in this class too. Can I get your Snapchat? Maybe we can partner up for the group project."

I honestly wasn't sure he'd go for it. He had a girlfriend, after all. Giving a random girl his Snap might be crossing a line. He hesitated, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

Just as I braced for a rejection, he nodded. "Sure."

He was incredibly good-lookingclean-cut, with a quiet, introverted vibe. What a fucking joke. His girlfriend had a guy this gorgeous, and she was out here fighting me for a piece of trash.

After class, we exchanged polite goodbyes and agreed to save seats for each other next time.

I checked his Instagram. He had a private account set to close friends only, and his bio and profile picture were barebones. He definitely didn't give off the vibe of a guy in a happy relationship.

I drifted through campus, merging blindly with the post-class crowds. My mind was a chaotic reel of every moment Dylan and I had shared. I started questioning everything. Were the happy moments fake?

Was every promise he made a lie? From the exact second he laid eyes on that girl, was I instantly erased from the top spot in his life?

I dug my acrylic nails so hard into my palms they almost broke the skin. Pure anger and the sheer humiliation of betrayal burned away any tears I had left. I kept my face stone-cold, veering off the main path to avoid the crowds, until I ended up at a secluded corner of the campus lake.

And that's when I saw them.

Two people sitting on a bench, holding hands. The girl was laughing, looking completely radiant.

I was about to turn and walk away when Dylans voice drifted over the water. "Your hands are so soft."

There was some distance between us, and her body was blocking his face.

But I knew that voice.

Chapter 3

We had talked on the phone every single day for five years. There was no mistaking that voice.

I stood frozen, watching his hand slide into her hair. They were kissing.

My muscles coiled. I wanted to march right over there and slap the taste out of both their mouths. To scream in their faces and ask how they could be so shameless. The fire burning in my chest threatened to melt my last shred of sanity.

But it wasn't enough. Not even close.

Exposing them right now and breaking up would just be handing him over on a silver platter, letting those two pieces of trash ride off into the sunset guilt-free. A few seconds of physical pain and a couple of insults wouldn't even put a dent in their little romance. They wouldn't feel a fraction of the agony ripping me apart today. I was never going to let them off that easily.

A dark, twisted idea took root in my mind. You want to cheat on me? Watch me play the exact same game. True agony only bleeds when you experience it yourself.

I was going to do whatever it took to stay glued to Dylans side, forcing their dirty little secret to stay underground forever. And then I was going to take her boyfriend. And every boyfriend after him.

Dylan, you are never going to know a single moment of peace for the rest of your pathetic life.

I pulled out my phone and snapped several clear photos of them, uploading them directly to a secure, hidden cloud folder before scrubbing every trace from my camera roll. After letting out one final, ragged gasp in the privacy of my dorm room, I ruthlessly dissected every memory we shared. I couldn't pinpoint the exact moment a third person had slipped into our relationship. I didn't even want to know.

Staring into my vanity mirror, I gave myself a harsh, objective evaluation. Messy hair. Pale, bare skin. A baggy, oversized hoodie drowning my figure, topped with a baseball cap constantly pulled low over my eyes.

Ever since we made it official, I rarely bothered with makeup unless there was a special event or I was in a great mood. I had a closet full of gorgeous dresses sitting with the tags still attached because I was too lazy to style my hair and felt they didn't match my casual vibe. I used to think we had been together for so long that we knew each others faces with our eyes closed. There was no point in dressing up to impress him anymore.

I slammed the mirror face-down on the desk and dragged every piece of clothing out of my closet. I sorted out a massive pile of worn-out graphic tees, shapeless gray jackets, and baggy shorts. I stuffed them all into a trash bag and shoved them into the donation bin downstairs.

After tossing the clothes, I grabbed my VIP membership card and headed straight for a high-end spa downtown, planning to soak in a Turkish bath to wash off the stench of his betrayal and pull myself back together.

I never expected to run into her there.

Thick steam filled the spa, blurring the faces of the other women. I was sitting directly across from her, massaging expensive body wash into my skin. I glanced over. She was petite and delicate, with a flat stomach and curves that looked perfectly sculpted.

She turned her back to grab a towel. As I looked up, I spotted a dark, bruised red mark hidden just under the hairline on her neck. It was a hickey.

Broke losers. Could they really not afford a real room? My fighting spirit flared back to life instantly. Whether or not I deserved to be loved wasn't going to be decided by a pathetic piece of garbage like him.

Leaving the spa, I headed straight to an exclusive salon, having my usual stylist give me a voluminous, aggressively glamorous blowout. Then, I changed into a complete set of designer couture.

Back in my room, I shoved my heavy prescription glasses into the back of a drawer, popped in a pair of striking colored contacts, and applied a flawless face of makeup.

My roommates stared at me in absolute shock. "What's the big occasion today?"

While blending my lipstick, I shot Dylan a text.

[ Miss you. Take a walk with me later? ]

His reply buzzed through almost instantly.

[ Sure thing. I miss you too. ]

Chapter 4

I stared at the text message, zoning out until my eyeliner almost dragged past my eyebrow. Can a human heart really split into two perfectly isolated halves to love two different people?

When I walked downstairs, he was already there, sitting on the steps with his head bowed over a game on his phone. He always showed up early for me. He never rushed me, no matter how long I took. Do you wait like this for her, too?

"Dylan, I'm so sorry I'm late." The second I saw him, I plastered a bright smile on my face, grabbed his hand, and pressed myself against his shoulder, looking up at him through my lashes.

He looked up, his eyebrows shooting up. "Damn, baby. Why are you so gorgeous today?" He usually just held my hand, but today, his arm slid right around my waist.

He buried his face in my hair, taking a deep breath. "You smell amazing."

He leaned in, aiming for my lips.

Looking at his mouth, my stomach violently churned. I immediately pressed my fingers against his lips, tilting my head and using my sweetest, most cloying voice. "Are you mad I made you wait?"

Normally, I'd just yank his hand and drag him along. I was never the clingy, sweet-talking type. A flicker of confusion crossed his eyes, but his ego clearly ate it right up. "No way. How could I ever be mad at my beautiful girl?"

We walked together, hands linked. "Don't you have a night class later?"

"Yeah."

"Want me to come with you?"

I was the kind of person who barely went to my own classes, let alone sat through his. Even if he asked, I'd shoot him down. We go to the same school, we can see each other whenever. What's the point of sitting in a boring lecture?

That was my usual line.

He went completely silent for a beat. Then, keeping his face perfectly neutral, he said, "Nah, it's a small seminar. Bringing my girlfriend would be way too obvious."

Oh, you're hiding something. But it didn't matter.

"Okay, then I'll just come pick you up after."

The hand gripping my waist flexed, his fingers digging in for a split second before smoothly releasing me. "What's going on today? You're acting a little weird, babe."

I kept my smile wide, wrapping both arms tight around his bicep. "My mom said she wants to buy me a limited-edition Porsche. She wanted to know what color you like, and if we should just put the title directly in your name."

Baby, I have money to burn. Even if you don't give a damn about our history, I refuse to believe you don't care about cash.

Right on cue, he started stammering. "Oh. Wow, really? Let me check if the frat meeting has anything going on later. If not, I'll text you to come over, okay?"

Tsk, tsk. So predictable.

"Don't worry about it. If you're busy, it's fine. We'll do it another day."

Later, I registered a new Instagram burner account. I sourced a few fake, hyper-curated California-style selfies, posted a couple of aesthetic Stories, and followed the girl. I started dropping casual comments under her posts, just enough to get on her radar.

It didn't take long for her to notice me.

[ Hey, do we know each other? ]

[ Hey! I saw some of your old modeling pics the other day. You're literally gorgeous, just wanted to be mutuals. ]

She was just a college girl; a direct, showering compliment was the easiest way to stroke her ego. I hyped up every single thing she posted, dropping fire emojis and sweet comments until she finally added me on Snapchat.

We officially became internet besties. After I mailed her a cute little aesthetic gift, she completely dropped her guard and accepted me as a genuine friend.

On the other side, I spared no effort in playing the perfect, doting girlfriend to Dylan. And slowly, I started noticing things I was blind to before.

One afternoon, I grabbed a bag full of snacks and headed straight for his frat house where they were hosting an event. They threw these things all the timecampus photoshoots, professional headshots for LinkedIn, Photoshop tutorials. Today was a free collaboration event: anyone could come model and get three fully edited photos in return.

I pushed open the heavy double doors. The frat's common room had been converted into a makeshift studio, packed with guys and girls laughing and flirting. Most of the people inside looked at me with blank confusion. Only Dylan froze, his eyes widening in shock.

His Adam's apple bobbed hard before he hurried over.

"What are you doing here?"

Chapter 5

I flashed him a smile, side-stepping him to walk straight into the room.

"Hey guys," I announced, raising the bags. "I'm Dylan's girlfriend. He wanted me to bring some snacks over for everyone. Thanks for working so hard."

A few of the frat brothers caught on first, scrambling over to grab the bags and greeting me with a chorus of, "Hey, Vesper!"

The girls looked a bit confused by the sudden interruption, but free food was free food, and their faces lit up.

But a few scattered individuals immediately started whispering. Their eyes darted away from mine, offering tight, reluctant smiles as they stood up.

That included her.

When I pushed through the doors, she was wearing a sheer slip dress, giggling and playfully shoving Dylan. What was her name again? Gemma. Right, Gemma.

"Gemma, our star model," I chirped, handing her a frozen treat from the bag. "Youve been working so hard. Youre so gorgeous, the frats rush week is definitely going to be a huge success, all thanks to you."

Two guys standing next to her shifted awkwardly, shooting frantic, meaningful glances at Dylan.

But Gemma didnt miss a beat. She casually picked up her phone, fired off a quick text, and met my gaze with a perfectly sweet, innocent smile.

"Thanks, Vesper. You're too sweet," she purred. "But it's all Dylans hard work. Im just here to help out."

Dylan hurried over, grabbing my arm and offering a stiff, awkward nod to the room. "This is Vesper. She brought all the snacks for you guys."

Even with my glaringly obvious entrance, he deliberately swallowed the word girlfriend.

He dragged me over to a chair in the corner and crouched in front of me. "Vesper, just wait for me over here, okay? Its packed today, and Im going to be swamped."

"If you're bored, just head back. I'll take you out for dinner tonight."

I gave a tight nod. I watched him jog right back into the center of the room, clapping his hands to get Gemma and the crew back into position for the shoot.

There were a couple dozen people crammed into the makeshift studio. Mostly frat brothers holding equipment, with only a handful of girls who were clearly just there to model.

But out of all those guys, Gemmas photographer was exclusively Dylan.

He raised his DSLR. "Gemma, look over here. Bump up the ring light a little."

"Yeah, perfect. That smile is gorgeous."

I had walked in here locked and loaded, entirely prepared to humiliate them. I had built up impenetrable mental armor, fully expecting to be the one parading around like a victor.

Instead, I was the only one choking on humiliation.

Gemma was laughing, holding the edges of her sheer dress as she posed directly under the studio lights. The reflector bounced a halo of light onto her face, making her glow like an absolute angel.

Dylan leaned in, his eye pressed against the viewfinder, a massive, uncontainable grin plastered across his face.

The look in his eyes wasn't just artistic appreciation. It was thick, undeniable infatuation.

He wasn't looking at a subject. He was looking at her.

They barely exchanged a single word. They didn't even touch.

Yet my throat closed up. I dug my acrylic nails so fiercely into my palms that my hands went numb.

Because the girl standing in front of that lens used to be me.

The girl bathed in that exact same adoring gaze, hundreds of times, used to be me. Only me.

I knew exactly what it looked like when he loved someone, which made it painfully obvious what he looked like when he was falling for someone else.

I took a slow, sharp intake of breath. I stood up, preparing to call out a quick goodbye and get the hell out of there.

That was when the heavy doors swung open again. In walked Julian, Gemma's boyfriend.

Gemma and Julian locked eyes for a second, exchanging a quick wave. Then, he navigated through the crowd, heading straight for the corner and dropping into the folding chair right next to mine.

I slowly sat back down. I turned my head, flashing him a polite smile. "Fancy seeing you here."

He blinked, studying my face for a few seconds before recognition hit. A warm smile spread across his face. "Oh, hey. Yeah, crazy coincidence."

The room was rapidly filling up as more guys and models piled in. To keep out of the way, we dragged our folding chairs further back, practically wedging ourselves behind a pile of discarded backdrop canvas and light stands.

He sat with his legs sprawled, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. I caught a glimpse of his screenpictures of paragliding.

"You're into paragliding?" I asked casually.

The sudden question caught him totally off guard. He jumped, his entire body flinching in surprise.

Chapter 6

I laughed, reaching over to pat his shoulder. "You okay?"

He seemed to find his own jumpiness funny. "I'm fine. Are you into paragliding too?"

"I like flying kites."

When he smiled, his eyes crinkled. The messy bangs falling over his forehead half-covered his brow. "Fair enough. They both fly."

I pulled an iced Frappuccino loaded with whipped cream from the drink carrier by my feet and held it out to him. "My treat. Got enough for everyone."

He tried to wave it off at first, but after I nudged it closer, he finally took the cup. "Thanks."

His fingers were long and defined. Above the collar of his plain t-shirt, his collarbones cast sharp, distinct shadows. He was undeniably lean.

The heat in the room was unforgiving. The whipped cream on the Frappuccino melted fast, overflowing the plastic lid and dripping down onto his hand. He looked around frantically, holding the cup out like a ticking bomb, trying to find something to wipe it with.

I pulled a tissue from my bag and pressed it into his palm.

He scrambled to wipe the sticky mess, trying to slurp the melting cream while simultaneously dodging the drips to save his jeans.

"Hold still." As he finally managed to get the drink under control, I leaned in with another tissue.

He instinctively pulled his head back a fraction, his voice dropping to a whisper. "What is it?"

I was wearing a floral-fruity perfume today. The scent drifted from my neck, chest, and wrists with every movement. A stray drop of whipped cream clung to his jaw, slowly trailing down toward his Adam's apple.

I leaned into his space, tilting my head. I pressed the tissue against his warm skin, wiping away the sticky mess, then deliberately stalled my hand there. I locked eyes with him. "All clean."

Right on cue, a deep flush crept up his pale, almost translucent skin, spreading all the way to the tips of his ears.

I kept my face completely blank, casually folding the used tissue and tossing it into a nearby trash bag before leaning back into my chair like nothing happened. "There's a paragliding base just outside the city."

He clearly hadn't recovered from the sudden proximity. He stammered, "Oh yeah? Is there?"

The studio area across the room was getting louder. A ton of girls had shown up today, bright smiles plastered on everyone's faces. Gemma had already changed into her second outfita cheerleader skirt set that practically screamed blinding, youthful energy.

I didn't follow up, so he just awkwardly dropped his gaze back to his phone.

With the massive crowd, they were constantly swapping out props and thick velvet backdrops. The backdrops were heavy, draped over cheap, flimsy metal stands that looked like they could snap at any second.

So when one of the frat guys rushed over and violently yanked a velvet sheet, the flimsy stands predictably collapsed. The entire metal frame, along with a rolling rack packed with heavy wardrobe pieces, tipped backward and crashed down, burying me completely.

"Watch out!" I heard him shout a split second before everything went pitch black.

I panicked, blindly throwing my hands up to push the heavy fabric away, only to hit something warm and solid. "Are you okay?"

He had lunged forward when the rack fell, throwing his body over mine to shield me. Now, we were both trapped under layers of heavy velvet. Despite his lean frame, he had enough upper body strength to brace the metal poles and hold the crushing weight of the fabric off my face.

If that thick velvet had smothered me directly, I would have suffocated in seconds.

I blindly felt around the edges of the fabric in the dark, trying to find a gap to crawl through. But I couldn't find a single opening, only managing to get myself completely out of breath.

After holding the weight for a minute, his arms started giving out. He dropped a few inches closer to me, his breathing turning ragged and heavy in the confined, pitch-black space.

I reached out in the dark and brushed his forehead. His skin was slick with sweat. "Stop bracing it. Just drop down and we'll yell for help," I whispered.

The studio outside was complete chaos, music blasting over the roar of dozens of overlapping conversations. Nobody had even noticed two people getting crushed under the fallen prop pile in the corner.

He didn't say a word, his muscles shaking as he locked his arms to keep the crushing weight off me. "Crawl out," he grunted through his teeth. "I'll hold it."

Chapter 7

It was pitch black inside. I fumbled in the dark, trying to crawl out, but my hand accidentally pushed against his arm.

His muscles finally gave out. His entire body collapsed, crashing down over me.

A muffled groan escaped my lips from the crushing weight. He immediately tensed, scrambling blindly to find a leverage point to push himself back up.

But after a few desperate struggles, his arms were completely shot. "Sorry," he breathed.

Even in the pitch black, I could feel ithis face was mere inches from mine, right where my head was turned. The damp heat of his ragged exhales brushed directly against the shell of my ear, sending a sudden, uncontrollable shiver down my spine.

"Help! Is anyone there?!" I yelled into the darkness, praying someone over the blaring music would hear us.

"Would you mind" he whispered out of nowhere, "if people see us like this?"

"What?" Caught entirely off guard, I instinctively turned my head toward his voice.

My lips brushed against something incredibly soft and radiating heat. It could have been his cheek. Or maybe it was his mouth.

My pulse spiked, and I violently yanked my head back. Under the crushing velvet, the pitch-black space suddenly amplified the sound of two sharp, simultaneous intakes of breath.

Someone must have heard my shouts. The crushing weight suddenly shifted as a panicked voice broke through the fabric. "Holy shit, grab that pole! Someone's trapped under here!"

The velvet was ripped away, blinding studio lights flooding my vision as a hand grabbed my arm and hauled me up.

My eyes locked onto Dylan. His face was an ugly, stormy mess. His fingers dug painfully into my wrist.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he hissed under his breath. "Why were you crammed back there with Julian? You're embarrassing me."

No frantic check to see if I was hurt. No asking if I could breathe. His first and only concern was that I was making him look bad in front of his frat brothers.

I roughly yanked my wrist out of his grip. Dusting off my couture skirt, I smoothed my hair back into place and shot a slow, deliberate glance across the room at Gemma.

"You should be thanking Julian," I said, keeping my voice dangerously cool. "Because with how distracted you were, I probably would have suffocated to death."

A violently obvious flash of guilt crossed his face, quickly morphing back into defensive irritation.

I bent down, grabbed my designer bag, and brushed the velvet lint off the strap. "Don't let me interrupt your masterpiece. I'm out."

As I pushed through the double doors, I glanced back. Julian had already retreated to his corner, dropping back into his folding chair and staring blankly at his phone like nothing ever happened.

I pulled out my phone and fired off a text to Julian