Chapter 1: Cracks in the Night

After my shower, the bathroom was thick with steam, and the scent of vanilla shampoo lingered in the air as always. Tyler Evans stood behind me, helping to blow-dry my hair, his hands gentle and familiar.

He held the ends of my hair, then let out a soft, almost teasing laugh—a sound that danced between nervousness and affection.

"Savannah, I've never seen you dye your hair. Black's kinda basic, don't you think?"

I lifted my eyelids, glancing up at him, searching his face for something beneath the casual words.

Quietly, I asked, "What color do you think would suit me?"

His hands paused, and a flicker of uncertainty crossed his eyes. "Auburn would look nice. It matches your skin tone."

Cold droplets slid from my hair, sending a shiver down my spine as I sat up and gently pulled away from his hand.

Tyler’s breath caught, and he seemed to snap back to reality. Realizing what he'd just said, he shifted his weight awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck, panic flashing in his eyes.

After a moment, he forced himself to change the subject, voice tight.

"Why'd you sit up? Your hair's not dry yet."

I looked down, clutching my robe with one trembling hand behind my back, determined to keep my voice steady and natural.

"It's almost dry."

The air felt thick between us, punctuated by the steady hum of the bathroom fan and the distant sounds of traffic outside. I tucked a loose strand behind my ear, trying to seem casual, but the chill from the water lingered on my scalp, and my heart thudded in my chest.

"It's getting late. You should shower."

He hesitated, then obediently stood up. Out of habit, he reached out to touch the top and ends of my hair. After confirming it was mostly dry, he finally left, reassured.

Not long after, I heard the sound of water running in the bathroom, mingling with the faint buzz of city life through the window.

I swallowed the emotions churning in my chest and, with shaking hands, picked up Tyler's phone and entered the unlock password.

Five seconds later, the four words on the screen—"Incorrect password"—shattered my last hope.

Tried my birthday. No luck. Tried his. Still nothing. I tried our anniversary. Still locked out. Each attempt felt heavier than the last.

"Incorrect password. You may try one last time."

My hand shook, breath catching in my throat as the cold, mechanical system prompt made my trust collapse completely.

All these years, I'd never thought to check Tyler's phone. Until today, his phone password had always been my birthday. He'd promised I could look at his phone anytime I wanted.

But the ridiculous thing is, in the year I trusted him most, he changed his phone password—and I didn't even know.

Even more absurd, tomorrow is the day Tyler and I have been looking forward to for so long—our wedding day. The rehearsal dinner was just last night, and our families are already gathering for tomorrow’s celebration.

Not far away, our carefully chosen wedding dress and suit still hung in the room. Just moments ago, he was nervously confirming wedding details with me over and over.

I don't want to believe it. But a clear voice inside keeps telling me: Tyler has cheated.

I curled up in the corner of the sofa, pulling my favorite fleece throw blanket around me. My hands shook so much I could barely hold the phone.

The sound of water in the bathroom stopped. Tyler came out.

Seeing me, he spoke with gentle affection, "Hey, Savvy, why are you still up? Thought you wanted to be the prettiest bride tomorrow..."

He walked over, but when he saw what I was holding, his words died in his throat.

He was so close I could see his pupils contract, panic and helplessness flickering in his eyes. His hands fidgeted at his sides, shifting from foot to foot.

I stared at his slightly pale face and handed him the phone.

"Why did you change your phone password?"