My voice pierced through the room.

Everyone turned in shock.

The next second, I hurled the cake—the one holding all my pathetic hopes—onto the floor with all my strength!

Frosting splattered, the sponge shattered.

Dead silence fell over the party.

Rachel yelped indignantly:

“Ugh! It’s all over me!”

“So disgusting!”

“Someone get me some napkins!”

Ethan reacted first, immediately wiping her bare legs without hesitation.

Only after cleaning her up did he glare at me in anger.

“Zoe Miller, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“It’s my birthday! Can’t you stop being difficult for just one day?”

I looked at Ethan’s angry face, my chest aching.

“Ethan Cole, forget the marriage.”

“Take your Mount Rainier trip with your life-and-death buddies instead.”

Without sparing Rachel a glance, I shoved past the crowd and stormed out of the party.

Ethan didn’t return until past midnight.

He woke me roughly with a kiss.

“Zoe…”

“I was wrong tonight, okay? My bros were there—I had to save face, right?”

I stayed silent, body stiff.

He took it as permission, continuing in that wheedling tone I once couldn’t resist.

“You hate me doing those extreme adventures. Haven’t I behaved all these years?”

He looked at me with hazy eyes.

“I promise, Rainier will be the last time. Really—the last!”

Something in my chest twinged.

Six years—I knew this routine too well.

Every mistake came with a sincere apology. Every vow sounded heartfelt.

And every time, I forgave him.

He sensed the crack in my resistance, pulling me into a heated kiss.

After some intimacy, he went to wash up.

That’s when I saw the glaring red marks on his neck.

Marks I hadn’t left.

Ethan didn’t notice my expression, disappearing into the bathroom.

His phone, tossed onto the nightstand, lit up again and again.

On impulse, I reached for it.

Unlocked, it opened straight to a group chat named “Ride-or-Die Bros.”

Rachel had posted a string of videos.

The background was clearly another nightclub.

After I’d stormed out, they had moved on to continue partying.

I opened the first video.

The camera shook, music blaring.

Someone shouted: “You lost, Ethan! Pick someone to kiss!”

In the center, Ethan, face red with drink, grinned recklessly.

His gaze swept the room, then he pulled Rachel into his arms—

and kissed her. Hard.

Not a playful peck.

A full, tongue-twisting kiss, lasting over ten seconds.

The bros around them screamed with excitement, like watching the show of their lives.

My stomach churned violently.

Under the video, Rachel tagged Ethan:

“Sonny boy, don’t let your jealous wifey see this video~”

“Got the fake leave approved! Saturday’s on!”

Another reply followed immediately—Big Mike chiming in:

“Why not just leave your wife behind, Ethan? Saves us from having to drag her back mid-trek. I’m all in for the full circuit!”

“Ethan’s wife is way too uptight. Total buzzkill.”

“Rachel’s the real deal—she fits right in! Ethan, maybe you should just go with Rachel instead?”

Rachel quickly replied in the thread, half-joking:

“Shut up! Careful, Zoe finds out and smears cake on your face!”

The same people who pretended polite to me in person were this shameless in their own world.

My chest burned with fury and disgust.

Then Rachel sent me a private message:

“This Rainier trip? I’m going to scare the hell out of your woman.”

“Give her a memory she’ll never forget—don’t you dare pity her.”

I didn’t open the thread, but those words—scare her—made cold sweat break out all over me.

Her past “jokes” flooded back to me.

And this time, on a perilous mountain circuit?

Her “joke” wouldn’t just be a prank.

The shower stopped.

I quickly locked his phone and put it back.

Before Ethan came out of the bathroom, I slipped into the guest room and locked the door.

That night, he snored peacefully in the master bedroom, unbothered.

I lay awake in the dark, eyes wide open till dawn.

The next morning, Ethan left early.

He’d scribbled a cheerful note on the table:

“Off to work, babe. Start picking out that wedding dress~”

What was that?

A slap followed by a candy?

Ethan never changed his tricks.

I crumpled the note and tossed it into the trash.

Ten minutes later, Rachel posted on her Facebook feed:

“Someone’s got the adventure itch again! But with a jealous wife around, no more rescue-breath for you!”

Nine glossy photos followed—

all of her kissing Ethan in various places, poses intimate and practiced, not some spur-of-the-moment game.

Ironically, not a single mutual friend liked or commented.

The post was set only visible to me.

Apparently last night’s proposal had set her off.

Every day she flaunted their so-called brotherly bond, hammering it in—I’m the real one.

Expressionless, I scrolled past, burying myself in trekking guides.

By Friday, the day before departure, she finally posted something public:

“Heading out on another adventure with my men!”

The photo was an old group shot, carefully cropped.

She smiled boldly, arms slung around the bros.

In the middle, where I should’ve been—she’d cut me clean out, leaving a glaring gap.

Ethan’s name appeared almost instantly in the comments:

“My boy, this time I’ve gotta take care of my wife. You’re on your own!”

Rachel replied with a bawling emoji:

“Biggest regret ever! Who’ll give me piggyback rides now?”

“How about telling your woman not to come?”

Ethan’s comeback was quick, playful as always:

“If you’re scared, then don’t come this time.”

That single, careless line seemed to pierce her facade.

Moments later, my private messages lit up:

“Hiking is dangerous. If someone’s not careful, even the body might never be found.”

The text flashed for just two seconds before she deleted it.

A cold smile spread inside me, though my face stayed calm.

I kept helping Ethan Cole pack his massive load of gear.

This time, we were heading for the Mount Rainier Circuit—a 25-day trek with no resupply.

“Zoe, we’re planning to finish in twenty-five days. Try this pack—see if you can handle the weight?”

Ethan had stuffed most of the heavy items into his own backpack.

But the 44-liter pack he handed me still felt like a mountain on my ninety-five-pound frame.

At the meeting point, Rachel Carter showed up with a tiny 30-liter pack, light as a feather.

There was no way it held the gear needed for three weeks in the wilderness.

Seeing me struggle with the straps, Rachel beamed and looped her arms around Big Mike and Justin White.

“Ethan, you’re too cruel—making your girlfriend carry all that weight? Mike and Justin treat me so much better. Look, I’m breezing through!”

Ethan clicked his tongue.

“You haven’t hiked in years. I bet you’ll be crying to quit before day five.”

Mike and Justin pounded their chests, swearing they’d carry Rachel if they had to.

Laughing and bickering, the group made their way to Eagle Canyon.

Our first goal was Timberline Village, an easy stage by their standards.

Sixteen kilometers of mountain trails drained every ounce of strength from me.

By the time we reached the lodge, my legs shook like they were filled with lead.

Rachel, still full of energy, dragged the others to take photos.

I collapsed on the bed, too exhausted even for dinner.

I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep when a rustling noise yanked me awake.

My heart lurched, sleep vanishing in an instant.

A thief?

I held my breath and opened my eyes in the darkness.

Moonlight filtered in through the window—

and I saw Rachel crouched over my pack, rifling through it.

Ethan stood right beside her.

“Rachel, stop it. Zoe will notice!”

Rachel ignored him, her fingers digging deeper until she pulled out the satellite phone I’d checked and rechecked.

A triumphant smile spread across her face. She pinched Ethan’s ear teasingly.

“Just tell her she forgot it. Don’t sell me out.”

Ethan frowned, but did nothing—just stood there in silence while she slipped my lifeline into her pocket.

My heart sank like a stone.

That phone was the one safety line I had made sure to secure before leaving.

And Ethan—the man I was planning to marry—just let her cut it away.

The next morning, as I tore through my pack again and again, my face went pale.

“My satellite phone’s missing!”

Ethan, looking uneasy, quickly pulled me into his arms.

“It’s fine, Zoe. Last time on the Sierra Nevada Trail we didn’t bring one either. Nothing happened.”

Rachel’s eyes gleamed with malice.

“Scared of dying already? Then don’t climb.”

“I told you, you and Ethan don’t belong to the same world. Even fate’s against your marriage.”

She bumped Ethan’s shoulder, speaking mock-seriously:

“Sonny boy, just stay child-free like your dad and enjoy life.”

I pushed Ethan away, staring at him hard.

“Ethan, answer me one thing.”