“Damn. The cake's going to waste,” Isabel muttered, her brows furrowed, “Also, Amelia won't like this. You did this the last time too. Although I know how important that was, but…”

“I know it sounds, and looks bad, Isabel. The cake can stay in the fridge, but I promise I'll make it up to Amelia. Thanks for your concern.” He said, then went to Amelia, giving her a cheek on the kiss, “I'll be off.”

“Bye,” Amelia replied lightly, waving at him absentmindedly, as he walked out of the house, heading straight for the car.

There was no Paris or Dubai trip happening. She'd heard wrong.

“Amelia, I'm really sorry this had to happen. Perhaps, you just have to wait,” Isabel said, her expression soft.

It's all good. If he's not spending our anniversary with me, then at least he's not spending it with you either, Amelia thought.

“I guess. Thanks for the cake,” She muttered, a hint of a tiny smile on her face.

Now, Amelia's doubts were cleared. Eventually, she spent half the day with Isabel, who tried to make it up to her.

“Shopping is checked out,” Isabel said, hours later as they left the shopping mall, “Now, we have the spa, and the restaurant left. Let's go.”

However, her joy and relief were nothing but short-lived. Amelia's hopes were eventually crashed brutally.

How did it happen? She was online a few days later, checking out matching couple dresses on Instagram, wanting to have one with Fred when he came back. Then she stumbled on Isabel's account which was suggested to her.

“Oh. A new account?” She muttered then smiled, “Let’s follow her.”

Tap, Amelia's finger clicked on the profile, and the very first post she saw was a video of Isabel, holding a bouquet of red roses, sniffing them, and looking like an angel.

She was dressed in a golden bodycon gown which accentuated her curves before flaring out in a long train at her knees to the ground.

“Is she having an anniversary with her fiance too?” She mumbled in envy with a faint smile, only for someone familiar to come into the video frame.

Her smile faded.

“You're so beautiful that… I want to be the only one who can see you,” Fred said, looking down at Isabel, with twinkling eyes. He held her hand against the rose, then raised it to his lips to kiss it.

Isabel's ears turned a fierce shade of red, as a song began to play in the background. Her world was spiraling into the sky.

Meanwhile, Amelia was dissolving into nothing. She couldn't even feel her heart in her chest. It was dull, numb, and a painful sting came from somewhere unknown deep within her.

All she could see was black, and that black was punctured by their smiling faces. She bit her lip hard, eyes welling up fiercely.

Perfect. They'd fooled her!

She took a screenshot of the video with shaking hands, and stormed out of her room, grabbing a coat as she did so.

First, she would question that stupid fiance of Isabel's, who let her go around, snatching other people's men.

She yanked open the door of her car, slammed it, and strapped her seatbelt, before squeezing the steering wheel.

“It's fine,” she scolded herself, “You knew all along. It's freaking fine. You're not hurt. This… this doesn't even have a hold on you. You're just mad!” Her eyes shone even as she forced the words out, tears streaking down her cheeks aggressively.

Then she turned the ignition, stepping on the brakes as the car picked up speed, while dialing the number that had been given to her once when Isabel couldn't reach her fiance.

She was going to meet this man—the man who couldn't hold his wife!

Amelia sat in the cafe, soft blues playing in the background, while she sipped on her latte.

She was calmer now—after being stood up by Isabel's fiance, who made her wait in the cafe for almost an hour, she lost the rage that had been brimming within her.

She simply stared at the image of her and Fred, which she used as a wallpaper, multiple sighs puffing past her lips at intervals.

Then her phone rang. It was Isabel's husband. She sighed again, then picked it up.

“Hello? You don't need to…”

“I'll give you an address. Come there.” He said curtly, and ended the call. Amelia looked at the phone, amazed at his rudeness. So the couple were the same after all. One seduced other people's husbands, while the other threw people around.

She rose to her feet, as a text came in. Well, she won't even tell him not to bother; she won't be the only one shattering in silence. He would see his wife, and what she was doing!

Amelia downed her latte in one go, and left the cafe, heading back to her car.

He'd given her his house address, and that was the exact place she drove to, transferring anger onto the steering wheel—anger she would transfer onto a man who didn't know how to secure his wife.

However, Amelia was thoroughly shaken when she got to meet him.

First, they had a whole freaking mansion just like the one her family had. She didn't get a mansion for her and Fred because she wanted to feel him close to her no matter where he was in the house.

So Isabel had a rich husband, then why was she chasing Amelia's??

Amelia was welcomed into the mansion with its plush sofas, elegant paintings, marble floors, and fluorescent lighting.

“He's this way,” a maid said, and they walked through the house to a backdoor, where they eventually came into the garden.

And there, Amelia's husband was, with a little girl. He was holding her hand, as they painted, laughing while she giggled. They seemed to be painting a person.

Amelia stopped. That exact thing had happened between her and Fred before—painting.

“Mr. Fields, she's here.” The maid said, directing me to sit at a table with fruits. Then the man turned, and as Amelia looked at him, she was awestruck.

He was a painting himself! Elegant strokes of beauty in his every feature! Why… then why did Isabel cheat on him?

And who was the little girl who clung onto him?

“Run along now, Leah. I'll be back,” he said to her, and she nodded, before racing across the garden. Then he took a seat before her, “Now let's discuss why you're here. You're Isabel's friend, aren't you?”

“Did Isabel have a kid? And no one knows?” Amelia found herself asking.

“No. It's mine. My kid before I met Isabel. So please move on; I'm a busy man,”

“Now I see the problem,” Amelia spat, “Your fiance is cheating on you because you're so busy, and cold-hearted.” She pushed the phone towards him, but he only raised a brow.

“Why are you showing me an image of Isabel with her fiance?” He asked, his voice cold and spiteful.

“What?” Amelia asked, the words coming out a bit light, as she stared at him in scorn.

“Isabel broke off our engagement two months ago, and has a new life with this man,”

“I… I don't understand. This man is my…”

“And… point of correction. Isabel didn't leave because I'm busy and cold-hearted. She left for the same reasons all women leave. She thinks I'm poor, so she left. Now, if you'll excuse me; I have a meeting to attend to.” He turned, walking away while Amelia simply stared in space.

Isabel's fiance. How? The man there was her husband!

Amelia was escorted out the gates, feeling disoriented and puzzled. She'd checked the comments under both Fred and Isabel's accounts, and everyone, just like Jay Fields, Isabel's husband seemed to think Isabel was Fred's fiance.

She'd checked every post, and every comment, but never saw a single mention of her. It was just like she didn't exist.

Thinking back on it, she couldn't remember going out much with Fred. They were always inside, and their relationship was more of a private thing. If she told anyone she was Fred's wife today, would anyone even believe her?

So she waited… she waited a full week for Fred to return from his trip, using her days to rehearse how she would approach the matter, and how she would ask her questions.

And finally, Fred returned.

“Baby!” He called, enthusiasm alive in his eyes as he scooped her into his arms, “I missed you so much!”

He looked at her, and placed a kiss on her lips, “What do you want to do first? How do you want to spend our anniversary?” He asked, taking off his coat, and she stepped back, feeling her heart harden.

If it were before, she'd have softened up, and believed she was wrong, but now she knew better.

“Why don't we have a photoshoot? Take pictures and upload them on our accounts? Why don't we go out to the cinema, perhaps a place with so many people. I want to meet your friends, Fred. I want to introduce you to everyone I know. It just occurred to me that it's been six years, but none of my people know much about you.” She said, and the color drained from his face.

He blinked rapidly, his Adam apple bobbing up and down, before he gave a weird chuckle.

“Uh, that's… um. It would take a lot of time.”

“Show me your schedule. We'll work a way around it.” She held out her hand.

“Um. I'm…”

“Actually, no. I want us to hold another wedding. Some couples do it. Yes, let's show that our love remains the same.” She began to pace the room.

“No, no. That's not possible. My schedule…”

She stopped, facing him, “You don't have to do anything. I'll do it all. You only have to be present for photoshoot day, and the wedding day. You don't have to be there on dress-picking day. I can do all that…”

He took her shoulders gently, “Amelia, I…” He struggled for words.

It was obviously because no one knew about them, and it was crazy how she never for once noticed it.

“It’s fine. Whenever you're ready,” she said, and a huge sigh of relief flushed through him.

“I got you a gift though. I love you. Wait here.” He said, before walking out of the house to his car.

Amelia waited, biting her lip, and shortly, Fred returned with a bouquet of red roses in his hands.

She recognized them immediately—the same roses Isabel had sniffed.

“Here,” Fred said softly, and she took the roses, feeling something heavy weigh down on her chest.

Then Fred took out a necklace with a heart pendant. It was a little chipped off at the edges, and once again, she recognized it as the one Isabel was wearing.

Her eyes shone, glittering like glass. Was he giving her Isabel's used and dumped things?

She took off her glasses to clean her eyes, dropping the flowers.

Fred smiled, “Are you that touched?”

Amelia swallowed down her heavy emotions, not wanting to cry before him.

Then she spoke, “I wanted to tell you something.”

“What's it?”

She looked at the flowers, and squeezed the necklace in a trembling fist. His gifts were arrows.

Then she said quietly, “Let's get a divorce.”