“My Friends Bet I Couldn’t Do Better Than You—I’m Just Proving Them Wrong,” She Said With A Smug Little Smile After I Caught Her Perched On Another Man’s Lap. I Didn’t Yell. I Didn’t Beg. I Just Looked At Her And Said, “Prove This Too.” Then I Took One Photo, Sent It To Her Parents With, “I Thought You Should See This,” And Walked Out. A Minute Later, My Phone Blew Up. She Was Calling In A Panic—Because Her Dad Had Already Opened The Message.

My friends bet I couldn’t do better than you. I’m just proving them wrong. She smirked after I saw her sitting on another man’s lap, like it was all part of some stupid show they’d rehearsed without me.

I replied, “Prove this, too.”
Then I took a photo, sent it to her parents with your daughter at her best, and left. She called, panicking, because her dad had seen it. Hey viewers, before we move on to the video, please make sure to subscribe to the channel and hit the like button if you want to see more stories like this.

Thanks. The first crack in our foundation wasn’t a fight. It was a sigh, long and heavy, the kind that begs for a question even when you already know you won’t like the answer.

It happened two weeks ago. I was on the couch finishing up some code for a work project, and Chloe was scrolling through her phone, her feet draped over my lap like we were still that easy, comfortable couple people assumed we were. She let out that long, weary sigh again, theatrical enough to demand attention.

“What’s up?” I asked, my eyes still half on my screen. “It’s just… Jessica’s boyfriend surprised her with a weekend in Napa,” she said, scrolling, her thumb flicking aggressively. “Helicopter tour, the whole thing.” And then she added, like a second punch, “And Mike just bought Lauren that new Prada bag she wanted.

The one she posted.”

I remember the feeling in my chest. It wasn’t jealousy. It was a quiet exhaustion, like I was watching the same scene play on repeat and realizing it was never going to end.

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