“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.”