Back when I was throwing up every morning and struggling to carry two babies.
Back when Gabriella came over every weekend pretending to help me.
The screen displayed a timeline.
Photos appeared one after another.
Tyler and Gabriella at restaurants.
Tyler and Gabriella at hotels.
Tyler and Gabriella kissing.
Gasps exploded around the room.
Someone dropped a wine glass.
It shattered against the floor.
Gabriella grabbed Tyler’s arm.
“What is happening?”
Tyler looked like he couldn’t breathe.
The next slide appeared.
A screenshot of a text message.
Gabriella: “Does she suspect anything?”
Tyler: “No. She’s too focused on the pregnancy.”
The entire room erupted.
“No way.”
“Oh my God.”
“That’s disgusting.”
Gabriella’s father stood up so fast his chair fell backward.
Her mother covered her mouth.
Another message appeared.
Tyler: “Once the babies are born, I’ll figure out how to leave.”
Then another.
Gabriella: “I hate pretending to be supportive around her.”
A woman near the front whispered, “She’s talking about her own cousin.”
The screen continued.
Date after date.
Month after month.
Evidence nobody could deny.
Tyler lunged toward the DJ booth.
“Turn it off!”
But the DJ raised both hands.
“I can’t!”
The video wasn’t playing from his system.
Someone had scheduled it remotely.
The final slide appeared.
A single photograph.
Me.
Holding my newborn twins in the hospital.
Exhausted.
Smiling.
Completely unaware of the betrayal happening behind my back.
Under the photo were eight simple words.
“While she was building a family, they destroyed one.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
