I brushed it off, thinking it was just stress from her job. To spice things up, I suggested we plan a vacation together. But she always had reasons why it wasn't the right time.
Then, about six months ago, her best friends organized a girls' trip to Vegas.
"It's just what I need," she said, eyes sparkling. "A break from the everyday grind."
I didn't love the idea. Vegas has that wild reputation, but I trusted her. Hell, I even transferred money to her account to cover extras.
Have fun, babe. Just stay safe, I texted as she boarded the plane.
She was gone for five days. Texts were sporadic at first: Miss you. Cocktails by the pool. Then, radio silence for a whole evening. When she finally replied, it was clipped: Crazy night. Talk tomorrow.
I didn't push. I figured she was just hungover or busy. But when she got back, something was off. She hugged me at the airport, but it felt mechanical. Her laugh was forced. That night in bed, she turned away early, claiming jet lag.
Over the next week, she was distant, always on her phone, smiling at the screen in a way that twisted my gut. I'd ask about the trip, and she'd give vague answers: "Oh, you know, shows and slots, nothing special." I tried to reconnect—cooked her favorite dinner, suggested a movie night—but she kept pulling away.
One evening, I noticed her phone buzzing nonstop while she showered. Curiosity got the better of me. Yeah, I know snooping isn't cool, but the red flags were piling up. I glanced at her messages.
There it was: a thread with some guy named Jake. Flirty emojis, inside jokes about that wild night at the club, photos from Vegas of her laughing with him at a bar, his arm around her waist, and worse, recent texts planning calls, him calling her "my spark."
My heart dropped. She'd hooked up with him there, and it hadn't stopped.
I sat there staring at the screen, feeling like the floor had vanished. Four years. All those sacrifices. Postponing my own career moves to support hers, like turning down a better job out of state because she wasn't ready to relocate. The late nights I'd spent fixing her blog when it crashed or comforting her through job rejections. I'd given everything, thinking we were building a future, and now this.