I never thought of myself as the jealous type. I had a great job, a stable life, and no reason to doubt my relationship until I saw the photo. A cozy café. Two familiar smiles. And a single comment that made my blood run cold.

I never considered myself the jealous type. Really, I didn’t.

I had a great job, a beautifully decorated apartment, and a stable relationship with Callum. He was the kind of guy you looked for after twenty-five—calm, reliable, the type you could plan a future with.

No unnecessary drama, no emotional roller coasters.

But there was one “but”—his ex, Renee.

At first, I convinced myself it wasn’t an issue. I was a mature, confident woman. Plenty of people stayed friends with their exes. It was normal.

Callum had been honest from the start—he and Renee had history, but that was all in the past. No feelings, just friendship.

I believed him.

I even tolerated their occasional coffee meetups, their inside jokes that I wasn’t part of, and the “coincidences” where she happened to show up at the same places we did.

But lately, she had been appearing way too often. And at that moment, staring at my phone, I was shocked. Odette, my best friend, had sent me a message.

No words. Just a photo.

I tapped to open it. Callum. Renee.

Sitting at a cozy little café, leaning in close, smiling like they had the most straightforward connection in the world.

I scrolled down. The time stamp said, “One hour ago.”

One hour ago, Callum had texted me:

“Working late, deadline’s killing me. Talk later.”

And right below the picture was a comment that sent a cold wave through my body.

“So happy you guys are back together!”

I blinked. Once. Twice. My heartbeat pounded in my ears.

A joke? A misunderstanding?

My phone buzzed. Odette calling. I picked up.

“Girl.” Her voice was sharp. “If that were my man, his car would be on bricks right now.”

“Odette, we’re not committing crimes today.”

“Who said anything about crimes? I’m talking about minor inconveniences. Maybe a flat tire, a mysteriously missing phone charger… a WiFi outage when he really needs it.”

I stared at the picture again. That wasn’t some casual run-in. That wasn’t just a friendship.

Callum lied. And I was about to find out why.

I didn’t confront him immediately. That would have been too easy.

Instead, I played along.

When Callum walked through the door, I was already in the kitchen, stirring a pot of pasta like I had spent the whole evening blissfully unaware of his little café meetup.

“Hey, babe,” he said, dropping his keys on the counter.

I turned with a warm smile, stepping forward to kiss him.

“Long day?”

“The worst,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around me. “Back-to-back calls, my brain is fried.”

Liar.

I hummed as if I believed him and turned back to the stove.

“Dinner’s almost ready. I figured we could just have a quiet night, maybe watch something?”

“Perfect. Exactly what I need.”

We ate together, the clinking of silverware filling the comfortable silence. I twirled my pasta around my fork, watching him out of the corner of my eye.

He looked relaxed, utterly unaware that I knew.

“So, any interesting projects at work?” I asked casually, taking a sip of my favorite tea.

“Just the usual. Meetings, deadlines, a never-ending inbox. You know how it is.”

I nodded, pretending to be engrossed in my plate.

“Sounds exhausting. At least you got a little break today.”

“Not really,” he sighed. “Barely had time to eat.”

I bit my lip to stop myself from smiling.

Liar.

Instead, I chuckled, shaking my head.

“You need to stop working yourself into the ground. You’ll become one of those guys who answer emails during date night.”

He laughed.

“That’ll never be me.”

Oh, Callum. You have no idea.

And then, curled up on the couch, I watched as he slowly let his guard down. His phone buzzed.

I felt him shift slightly. In a flash, he flipped it over, screen-down.

“Oh,” I said lightly, pretending not to care. “Work again?”

He barely glanced at me.

“Yeah. Just some last-minute changes to a project.”

I tilted my head, acting like I was thinking about something.

“Speaking of work… have you seen Renee this week?”

He stiffened. Just for a second. I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been watching for it.

“No,” he said too quickly.

I picked up my mug and took a slow sip of tea.

“Really?”

He exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well… I ran into her the other day.”

There it was.

“And?”

He reached for his glass of water.

“We just caught up for a bit. Nothing important.”

I smiled sweetly, nodding like I completely bought it.

“Oh. Okay.”

Oh, Callum. You’re good. But I’m better.

We continued watching the movie, his arm draped over my shoulders. His breathing evened out as exhaustion took over. I let myself relax against him, waiting.

And then, finally—he fell asleep. I carefully shifted, letting his arm slide off me.

Finally, it was my chance. I reached for his phone. Face ID. Easy enough.

I leaned in, resting his head in my lap, stroking his hair softly. He mumbled something in his sleep but didn’t stir.

“Sweet dreams, babe,” I whispered.

Then, smoothly, I lifted his phone to his face. The screen unlocked. I held my breath as I glanced at his notifications.

Renee: Can we meet tomorrow? Same café?

A cold wave washed over me. So she was comfortable enough to text him directly about meeting up. Not even a hint of caution.

I stared at the message momentarily, my mind already working through the possibilities. Then, just as smoothly, I locked his phone, placing it back on the couch beside him.

On that note, I already knew what I had to do.

I slid out from under Callum’s arm, grabbing my own phone as I tiptoed out of the room. The moment I closed the bedroom door behind me, I dialed the bank.

The following day, Callum was in for a surprise.

Tears? Screaming? That wasn’t my style.

If Callum wanted to play his little games, I’d let him think he was winning—right until I flipped the board.

I scrolled through my phone, found the café where he and Renee had their “friendly little meeting,” and placed an order. A special delivery.

Then, I waited. Two hours later, my phone rang.

Callum. Perfect.

I let it buzz a few times before answering, keeping my voice light.

“Hey, babe. How’s your night going?”

There was silence. Then, in a confused and frustrated tone, “Ayla… what did you do?”

I grinned, swirling my milkshake with my straw.

“Hmm? You sound stressed. Did something happen?”

“The waiter just brought something to my table.”

I feigned curiosity.

“Oh? Was it the check? I assume Renee is covering, considering, well…” I let the sentence dangle.

“Ayla,” he said tightly.

“You sent flowers.”

I leaned back on the couch, adjusting the blanket around me.

“Did I?”

“The card…” He cut himself off, then took a breath. ” ‘ENJOY YOUR TRASHY ROMANCE!.’ What is that supposed to mean?”

I hummed.

“Just a thoughtful gesture. Friends deserve flowers, don’t they?”

“You are unbelievable,” he muttered as if he had just realized I wasn’t the kind of woman to sit around feeling sorry for herself. “Ayla, why are you doing this?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because my boyfriend told me he was working late while having cozy coffee dates with his ex?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Mmm. Sure, babe.”

Another heavy pause. Then, the final blow.

“The waiter just handed me the bill… my card was declined.”

I bit back a laugh. “Well, given your recent overtime expenses, I thought a little budgeting was in order.”

“Ayla…”

“Relax, Callum,” I murmured smoothly. “I’m just playing fair.”

There was another long pause, the kind that made me picture him sitting there with his jaws clenched, shoulders tense, scrambling for control of a situation that had already slipped through his fingers.

Then, finally, he spoke. “I’m coming home.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting.”

But before I could hang up, he added, “I’m not coming alone.”

I stared at the screen. Excitement. The game wasn’t over.

In twenty minutes, the front door opened, and I straightened.

Callum walked in looking exhausted—but not guilty. And then I saw her.

Renee. Standing right behind him.

Why did he bring her here? Is this it? Is he about to confirm my worst fear?

Callum ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. You want the truth?”

“I think I deserve that.”

Renee sighed. “Ayla, I know how this looks, but…”

“Oh, do you?” My voice was sharp. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like I thought it would.”

Callum held up a hand. “Just listen.”

I forced myself to stay silent.

“I was buying you a gift. A custom ring. Renee is a jeweler. I asked for her help.”

I blinked. That was… unexpected.

“I figured telling you would ruin the surprise.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Well, mission accomplished.”

Silence. And then, suddenly, the weight of it all hit me.

I’ve been spending two years with Callum. And yet, here I am—setting traps, looking for proof of a betrayal that didn’t exist.

Not at him. At myself. I had let my own fears take over.

I exhaled. “I screwed up.”

Callum raised an eyebrow.

“I let my insecurities win. I didn’t trust you. I jumped to conclusions, played games, and…” I groaned. “The note at the restaurant. God.”

Renee smirked. “I mean, it was iconic.”

Callum chuckled. “It was dramatic.”

I covered my face. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Not a chance,” Callum teased.

“We’ll be okay,” I said. “As long as we start being honest.”

He squeezed my fingers. “Deal.”

Renee sighed. “Great. Can I go now, or are we still processing?”

I laughed—really laughed—for the first time all day. The storm had passed.