Chapter 1Valentine's Day.
I'm working at City Hall when my fiancé walks in—with his "girl bestie" to get married.
He tosses his ID on my desk like it's nothing:
"Chill, Nina. Lost a bet."
"Gotta marry Sophia for a day. We'll divorce tomorrow, no biggie."
Sophia—rocking HIS white shirt—smirks at me:
"Nina's not gonna block us, right?"
"She's always been bitchy about me anyway..."
Before she finishes, I slam my stamp down:
"Hell no! I get it."
"You're just buddies doing buddy things."
"Go take your cute little photos. Happy honeymoon!"
His face goes dark and they storm out.
Next day.
Same duo, back for divorce.
I clock those fresh hickeys on his neck and grin, sliding over a counseling form:
"Oops! New policy."
"Impulsive couples gotta cool off first."
"Want that divorce? See you in six months, lovebirds."
Valentine's Day.
Someone's banging on my window.
"Nina, don't flip out on me. It's just a stupid dare."
I look up—Ryan's standing there with Sophia wrapped around him.
She's wearing MY shirt. The one I bought him for his birthday.
Ryan slides their IDs across, all casual:
"We lost at beer pong. Have to get hitched for a day. Tomorrow we're back to undo this mess."
Sophia's practically purring:
"You won't be a bitch about this, will you?"
"Come on, we're just screwing around. Don't tell me you're actually pressed."
The fucking nerve. Making me marry them off on Valentine's Day.
Everyone's staring. The whole office is eating this up.
Ryan's drumming his fingers: "Seriously, Nina, can we speed this up?"
Sophia whispers something in his ear, then smirks at me.
My blood turns to ice, but I flash them my brightest smile:
"Oh honey, I'm TOTALLY here for this!"
I grab their paperwork, humming while I process everything.
Ryan's face drops. Where's the meltdown? The jealous girlfriend act?
"Booth three's open! Go get those wedding shots—make 'em count!"
They come back looking all loved-up in their photos.
WHAM.
I slam that stamp down like I'm sealing their fate.
"There you go, lovebirds. Till death do you part!"
Chapter 2
I push open the door. Total darkness.
Ryan's shoes are gone. The slippers I got him are just sitting there like sad puppies.
He's not coming home tonight.
I flop on the couch, letting the dark hide all his shit so I can actually breathe.
My phone won't stop buzzing. Instagram notifications going crazy.
Ryan posted thirty minutes ago.
Nine photos of him and Sophia being all cutesy. Her shoving cake in his mouth, them cracking up by some river, and—are you kidding me—both holding up their marriage licenses like they just hit the jackpot.
His caption: "Best dare ever—when jokes become real ?"
The comments are already flooding in:
"BRO you actually did it?!"
"Finally! You two were meant to be!"
"When's the reception??"
Sophia's heart-reacting every comment: "Thanks guys! Party planning starts now! ?✨"
My phone buzzes. Emma texting: "Girl what is happening??? Are you okay???"
Then Mom's calling, totally panicked:
"Nina! I just saw Ryan's Instagram—what is this? Did something happen? How could he—"
"We're done, Mom." My voice is flat.
"What? When did—"
"It's over. Please don't mention him again."
I hang up before she can spiral.
Dead silence hits me hard.
I blast every light on, exposing all the lies this place was built on.
Time to get my stuff.
I'm throwing everything in my suitcase. When I see our matching coffee mugs, I grab mine and leave his.
Let him share with wife number one.
My phone lights up. Ryan texting:
"Don't be dramatic. Just celebrating with the boys."
"You were so chill today I thought you literally didn't care."
"After Sophia and I get this annulled tomorrow I'll explain everything."
Won't even call me.
I delete his number without reading the rest.
Suitcase ready, I take one last look at my biggest mistake.
Chapter 3
Everything here? I put it there myself.
That stupid painting, those flowers, even his precious office chair—I spent weeks researching that thing!
When we moved in, Ryan spun me around like we were in some cheesy movie.
"Nina, this is our forever home!"
What bullshit.
Then Sophia started taking over MY space. Her annoying laugh, her crap everywhere, my fridge stuffed with her gross drinks.
Our three-year anniversary—I finally lost it.
Booked this perfect dinner, bought him something expensive, sat there like a total fool until they kicked me out. Ryan calls at freaking midnight.
"Babe, Sophia's having a breakdown. Some asshole dumped her."
Her fake crying: "Ryan, I'm ruining everything!"
Me, furious at cold food: "Fine! Go save your precious princess!"
Tried being the cool girlfriend. Dumbest thing ever.
Last winter, flu knocked me flat—fever through the roof, shaking like crazy.
Called him: "I need you to take me to the hospital!"
Karaoke hell blasting through the phone.
"Are you kidding me right now, Nina?"
"I'm literally dying here!"
Sophia snatched his phone, wasted: "It's my BIRTHDAY! Ryan's MY date tonight! You can't just steal him for some stupid cold!"
Everyone cracked up.
Ryan: "Just call an Uber! I can't abandon Sophia's party. God, you're so needy!"
CLICK.
Sat alone in that freezing ER all night, watching medicine drip while my world exploded.
That's when I knew—he'd always pick that bitch.
Now I'm dragging my life out in a suitcase. He hasn't texted shit.
Guess I'm already dead to him.
I slam the door and strut away.
See ya, Ryan.
Enjoy your honeymoon phase!
