But before I left, I had one last gift for Jenna. At the party, Jenna was growing anxious, constantly scanning the crowd for me. She pulled out her phone, but before she could dial, my best friend Mark intercepted her, a glass of champagne in his hand.
Congratulations, Jenna, he said with a wide grin. My buddy Creed, he takes relationships very seriously. Don't you worry, he'll be here on time.
He paused, then added, oh, but he does have one flaw. He absolutely cannot stand betrayal. Jenna managed a tight, forced smile. Just as she was about to reply, Mark snapped his fingers. I almost forgot to tell you the craziest thing.
We're all from the same area, you know? Creed too. Before he moved to New York, he grew up in the same region as you.
His town was right next to yours. Look, here's a copy of his old ID. I'm not kidding. I can even prove it. And then, Mark switched to fluent, perfect Spanish.
Mark's Spanish rolled off his tongue like a native, crisp fluid, and laced with a cold amusement that made Jenna's smile freeze. The room, once buzzing with laughter and clinking glasses, went silent. Heads turned, curious eyes locking on the trio at the center.
Jenna. her face draining of color leo his hand still clasped in hers confusion creasing his brow and mark grinning like he just uncovered the juiciest secret in town you see mark said his gaze never leaving jenna creed's mom isn't just from puerto rico she's from pons same as your abuela right you used to visit every summer as a kid he grew up speaking spanish at home eating arrows con gandals listening to the same salsa records you claim to love jenna's throat bobbed she tried to speak but no sound came out her friends scattered around the room with drinks in their hands went rigid The ones who'd spent weeks mocking Creed in Spanish, calling him an idiot, a simp, a fool, suddenly looked like they might throw up. Mark pulled out his phone, tapping the screen a few times before holding it up for everyone to see. It was a video, grainy but clear enough, Jenna and Leo on that forest blanket, their bodies tangled, their laughter loud and shameless.
The audio cut through the silence, their jokes about Creed guarding them, their boasts about the thrill of cheating, Jenna's complaint about the scratchy grass. The crowd gasped. Whispers erupted, sharp and judgmental.
A few people stepped away from Jenna's friends. as if their shame were contagious. Leo finally let go of Jenna's hand, stepping back as if she'd burned him. What the hell is this?
He snapped, his voice cracking. You said he didn't understand Spanish. You said he was just some dumb gringo.
Jenna's eyes filled with tears, not of remorse but of panic. I didn't know. I swear I didn't.
You didn't know? Mark scoffed, switching back to English so everyone could follow. Or you didn't care?
Let's be honest, Jenna. You never cared about Creed. You cared about his money, his devotion, the way he'd drop everything for you. You thought he was easy to manipulate.
Stupid. He pulled out another device, a small speaker, and set it on the nearest table. With a tap, the room was filled with Jenna's voice, taken from the phone call she'd had with Creed while he hung from that tree root. Oh, stop being so dramatic. It's not that steep.
You city boys are always so delicate. The speaker then played the sound of Creed's scream as the root snapped, followed by Jenna's soft moan in the background, proof that she'd heard him fall and chosen pleasure over his life. The room went deathly quiet. Even the band stopped playing. Jenna's face was ashen, her hands trembling.
Her father, a stern man in a tailored suit, stepped forward, his eyes blazing with anger. Is this true, Jenna? he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Before she could answer, Mark spoke again. There's more. Remember that Plan B pill Creed bought for you?
The one you made him run out in the rain for? He had it tested. Turns out, Leo wasn't the only one you were sleeping with that night. The lab results came back this morning. You're pregnant, Jenna.
And it's not Creed's. It's not even Leo's. Leo stumbled back, his face a mask of horror.
What? he roared. You told me we were exclusive. You said I was the only one. Jenna collapsed into a nearby chair, sobbing.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It was a mistake. I was drunk, and he was there, and I... Her words were drowned out by the chaos.
Guests were talking over each other, taking out their phones to record, whispering about the scandal that would surely spread through the city by morning. Jenna's friends tried to slip away, but Mark's security team, men Creed had hired weeks earlier, blocked the exits. Not so fast, Mark said, nodding at the guards.
Creed wanted you all to stick around. He has a few more things to share. He pulled up a slideshow on the large screen behind him. It was a series of bank statements, text messages, and receipts, evidence of Jenna's lies. There were payments to her friends for keeping quiet about her affairs.
There were texts to Leo, mocking Creed's generosity, he bought me a Cartier bracelet today, idiot thinks it means I love him. There were even receipts for the lingerie she packed for their hiking trip, charged to Creed's credit card. And let's not forget Leo, Mark added, clicking to a new slide. It showed Leo's criminal record, DUIs, assault charges, a pending lawsuit for embezzlement.
You thought you were hooking up with a bad boy? No, Jenna. You were hooking up with a criminal. He's been using you to get to Creed's money this whole time. Remember that investment Leo told you about?
He stole $50 000 from Creed's business account last month. Used it to pay off his gambling debts. Leo lunged at Mark, but the security guards grabbed him, pinning his arms behind his back. You're lying, he shouted, struggling against their grip. It's a setup, Creed's framing me.
Mark just smiled. Is he? Ask your bookie.
He's here tonight. Third table from the left. He's been waiting to collect what you owe him. Leo's eyes widened.
He looked over at the table Mark had indicated, and his face went pale. A burly man in a leather jacket stood up, cracking his knuckles as he stared at Leo. Leo.
By now, Jenna was hyperventilating. Her father had disowned her on the spot, storming out of the room with a final curse. Her mother was crying, muttering about how she'd raised her better. The guests were leaving in droves, their faces filled with disgust. Mark waited until the room had thinned out before speaking again.
Creed's not here tonight. He's on a plane to Paris. He's starting over, without you, without the lies, without the drama.
He paused, looking at Jenna and Leo with a cold, hard gaze. But he wanted me to tell you this, he forgave you. Not because you deserved it.
but because he's better than you. He's moving on. You too? You're stuck here, with your lies, your mistakes, and the mess you've made of your lives. He turned to leave, then glanced back.
Oh, and one more thing. The apartment you're living in, the car you drive, the credit cards you've been maxing out, they're all in Creed's name. He's already cancelled them. You have 24 hours to pack your things and get out. After that, the locks will be changed, and the repo men will be there.
With that, Mark walked out, leaving Jenna and Leo alone in the ruins of their shattered lives. The only sounds were Jenna's sobs and Leo's angry shouts as the security guards dragged him away. Six months later, Paris.
Creed sat at a sidewalk café, sipping espresso and watching the world go by. He'd grown his hair out a little, and the scruff on his jaw made him look older, more rugged. The leg he'd broken in the fall had healed, but he still walked with a slight limp, a reminder of the pain he'd endured, and the strength he'd found to move on.
He'd taken the transfer to the Paris office, and he was thriving. He'd made new friends, learned to speak French fluently, and even started painting, something he'd loved as a kid but had abandoned after his father's death. His life was calm, peaceful, and exactly what he'd always wanted. He checked his phone, smiling at a text from Mark. It was a link to a tabloid article with the headline, Cheating Bride-to-Be Jenna Carter Left Homeless After Scandal, Baby Daddy Unknown.
The article detailed how Jenna had lost her job, her family, and her home. Leo was in jail, serving time for embezzlement and assault. Her friends had all turned on her, selling their stories to the press for a quick buck.
Creed shook his head, putting his phone away. He didn't feel joy or satisfaction, just a quiet relief. He'd spent months healing from the betrayal, and he'd finally reached a place where Jenna's name no longer made his chest ache. He finished his espresso and stood up, stretching his legs. He was meeting a friend at the Louvre, someone he'd met at an art class a few weeks earlier.
Her name was Sophie, and she was a curator at the museum. She was kind, intelligent, and had a laugh that made his heart feel light. As he walked down the street, he passed a boutique.
In the window, he saw a dress, slinky silk, the same color as the lingerie Jenna had worn on their hiking trip. For a moment, he froze. Memories flashed through his mind, the sound of her laughter, the feel of her lips on his, the pain of watching her with Leo.
But then he shook his head, pushing the memories away. That part of his life was over. He was no longer the naive, devoted boyfriend who'd let someone walk all over him.
He was stronger now, wiser, and ready to love again, if he found the right person. He arrived at the Louvre a few minutes later. Sophie was waiting for him outside.
wearing a sundress and sunglasses. She smiled when she saw him, and his heart skipped a beat. Hey, she said, giving him a hug. Ready to see the new exhibit?