I thought I had found the perfect man and we were planning our wedding when I stepped outside one morning and saw five spray-painted words on his car: ‘You picked the wrong guy, gave him the wrong finger.’ At that moment, everything I believed about him started to fall apart.
When you’re truly happy, you don’t expect disaster. Just a few days ago, Ethan had proposed to me, and now we were slowly talking about the wedding.
I kept smiling at nothing, thinking about how lucky I was. Ethan was everything I had ever dreamed of in a man—gentle, kind, thoughtful, responsible. I had waited a long time for this kind of love.
We had our little routines, one of which was breakfast together. I always got up early and cooked, then woke Ethan so we could start the day with coffee, eggs, and plans.
That morning was no different. I was flipping pancakes when the doorbell rang. Strange. We weren’t expecting anyone.
When I opened the door, I saw Megan, our neighbor from across the street. She lived with her brother Jay.
Megan was the type of person who always knew everyone’s business, and while I wasn’t a fan of that, I tolerated her. Jay, on the other hand, was sweet and respectful, always polite when we crossed paths.
“Good morning,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.
Megan gave me an odd look, almost… sympathetic. “I’m so sorry, Rachel.”
My stomach dropped. “Sorry? For what?”
“I mean, you just got engaged… and now this? It must be awful.”
“What are you talking about?” I frowned. “Ethan and I are perfectly fine.”
She glanced behind her toward the street. “I just thought maybe you knew. I mean, your fiancé’s car… there’s a message on it. And it’s not exactly cheerful.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What message?”
Megan hesitated. “You should probably see it for yourself.” Then she walked away.
I went back to the kitchen and turned off the stove, quickly slipped on my sandals, and walked outside. I scanned Ethan’s car. From the front and back, it looked normal. But when I stepped to the passenger side, I froze.
There it was. A spray-painted message across the windows and door: ‘You picked the wrong guy, gave him the wrong finger.’
My mouth went dry. My first thought was that it had to be a joke. A cruel, tasteless joke. But something about it felt off. Ethan and I had no enemies. At least I thought we didn’t.
I stormed back inside and up the stairs to our bedroom. Ethan was still sleeping, curled under the blanket.
“Ethan!” I shook his shoulder.
“Hm? What’s wrong?” he mumbled.
“Have you seen your car this morning?”
He blinked at me. “My car? No, why?”
“There’s a message painted on the side. Someone vandalized it.”
He sat up, confused. “Last night, everything was fine. I parked and came straight in.”
“Well, it’s not fine now,” I said. “Come and see for yourself.”
We stood on the sidewalk together, staring at the words. Ethan scratched the back of his neck.
“Any idea who might have done this?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No clue.”
“Then why would someone write something like this?”
“I have no idea,” he said. “Maybe someone mistook my car for someone else’s.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not hiding anything from me?”
He met my gaze. “Of course not. I love you, Rachel. I would never lie to you.”
He leaned in and kissed my cheek, then turned to go inside.
“I told you we should’ve installed security cameras!” I called after him.
That gave me an idea. Megan’s house. They had cameras pointing at the street.
Ethan was already sitting at the table when I came back in.
“Are you going to call the police?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No need. It’s probably just some stupid prank.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Okay.”
“I’ll have to take the bus today,” he added, getting up. “I’ll see you tonight.” Another kiss on the cheek, and he was gone.
I changed clothes and went to Megan’s. Jay opened the door.
“Hey,” I said. “I know this is strange, but someone vandalized Ethan’s car last night. Do your cameras point at our driveway?”
Jay nodded. “Megan already told me about it. Come in, we’ll check the footage.”
Of course she did, I thought. Megan and her big mouth.
Jay led me to the computer. We watched the footage from the night before. Around 2 a.m., a hooded figure appeared on screen, approached the car, spray-painted the message, and quickly walked away. Their face was completely hidden.
Jay sighed. “Sorry. There’s no way to tell who it was.”
“Thank you anyway,” I said. “I appreciate your help.”
Jay hesitated. “Can I ask… do you really think this was a prank?”
I looked at him. “What else could it be?”
Jay met my eyes. “The message… it seemed personal. Like someone trying to tell you something.”
“You think Ethan’s hiding something?”
Jay shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re the one marrying him.”
I left feeling uneasy. That day, when Ethan got home, he was scrubbing the car clean. Once the message was gone, he came back inside.
“You sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?” I asked him again.
He smiled. “There’s nothing, babe. The car is clean, it’s over.”
But I couldn’t sleep. Around midnight, Ethan’s phone buzzed with a message. I shouldn’t have looked, but I did.
‘Meet me after work tomorrow. We need to talk.’ And the address. I copied the address into my phone.
The next morning, Ethan casually mentioned that he would be staying late at work.
“Lots to handle lately,” he said.
“Okay,” I replied. “I’ll have dinner on my own then.”
He smiled. “Sounds good.”
But all day, my thoughts spun. Jay’s words. The message. That text. I could not ignore them.
After work, I drove to that address. Ethan’s car was already there. I parked across the street and looked through the window. Inside was Ethan… and a woman.
They were sitting with paperwork between them, talking calmly. Nothing romantic. I waited. Time passed. Nothing happened.
Eventually, Ethan stood up and left. I quickly drove home, hoping to beat him. I made it just in time.
When he arrived, I watched from the window as he parked. But not in our driveway. No. He parked in front of Megan and Jay’s house.
Everything clicked. Of course, it was Megan. She was the one who told me about the message on the car, and I saw the envy in her eyes when she found out Ethan had proposed to me. That bastard was cheating on me right under my nose!
I stormed outside, keeping quiet, creeping toward their house. I wanted to catch him in the act. I stood beneath the open window and listened.
“I had to do it,” Ethan said. “You knew this relationship would end eventually. I told you I had to marry Rachel.”
I expected to hear Megan’s voice, but it wasn’t her. I heard Jay’s voice instead.
“And yet you told me you loved me,” Jay said.
My stomach turned. I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from gasping.
“My family would never accept me,” Ethan muttered.
“You can’t live your life hiding,” Jay replied. “You can’t lie to Rachel forever.”
“We can still see each other,” Ethan said.
“Are you kidding me?!” I burst into the room, my voice overlapping with Jay’s.
Ethan froze. “Rachel, it’s not what it looks like.”
“Not what it looks like?!” I screamed. “I trusted you! I loved you! And you lied to me every single day!”
“I didn’t have a choice! And I’m comfortable with you!”
“You don’t marry someone because they’re ‘comfortable,’ Ethan!”
He stepped forward. “Please forgive me.”
“No,” I said. “Pack your things. You’re done.”
“Rachel, please.”
“I want to marry someone who loves me, who wants me. Not someone who wants another man!”
“You can’t blame me for being gay!” he shouted.
“I don’t blame you for being gay!” I cried. “There’s nothing wrong with that! I blame you for building a life with me on a lie!”
“Rachel, I’m begging you,” he said, stepping toward me.
“Go pack your things, Ethan,” I said.
Ethan and I walked back to the house in complete silence. I unlocked the door and let us in. My hands were still shaking, but I stayed calm. I had to.
He dropped his keys on the table and glanced at me nervously. “I’ll pack my things,” he muttered.
I didn’t respond. I just followed him with my eyes as he slowly moved around the room, opening drawers, pulling clothes from the closet, stuffing them carelessly into his bag.
I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching every motion. I wanted to burn this image into my memory—so I would never forget what betrayal looked like.
Ethan zipped up the duffel bag and stood still for a moment before turning to face me.
“Rachel…” His voice trembled. “Please. Don’t do this. We can work through it. Just give me one more chance. I made a mistake, but we’ve built a life together. Doesn’t that count for something?”
I looked at him, and for a second, I saw the man I had once loved. But only for a second.
“You built that life on lies,” I said quietly. “I don’t want a marriage where I’ll constantly be wondering who you’re with, or what you’re hiding. I want honesty. I want love. Real love.”
“Rachel, I’m begging you,” he said, stepping toward me. “I swear, I’ll change. I’ll be better. I’ll do anything. Just… don’t throw this away.”
“I am not the one who threw it away,” I said. “You did. The moment you chose to live a double life.”
“But you made me feel safe,” he whispered.
I nodded. “And you made me feel like a fool.”
He lowered his gaze. “So that’s it?”
“Yes,” I said. “Now take your things and go.”
He stood there for a moment longer, defeated. Then he picked up his bag and walked slowly to the door. Without another word, he stepped outside and closed it behind him.
I stood in the silence of the house, my arms still crossed. I had never felt so angry, so hollow. The quiet was louder than any scream.
A few minutes later, there was a knock.
“I told you to leave!” I shouted as I opened the door, not even bothering to look first.
But it wasn’t Ethan. It was Jay.
“Oh,” I said, surprised. “Sorry. I thought you were—”
“I know who you thought I was,” Jay replied softly, holding up a box of tea. “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. I was afraid.”
I stared at the tea. “Well. At least now I know the truth.”
Jay nodded. “Do you want something to calm your nerves?”
I let out a half-laugh. “We’re going to need something a lot stronger than tea.”
He gave a small smile.
“Come in,” I said.
As Jay stepped inside and I closed the door behind him, I realized something—I wasn’t alone. Not anymore. And even though I had just lost the man I thought I would marry, I had also found something far more important. Myself.
