Chapter 3
Sara didn’t remember deciding to walk.One second she was staring at Brooklyn’s story, trying to convince herself that reflections lied. The next, she was moving down the resort path with Abbie at her side, the phone clutched so tightly in her hand that the edges bit into her palm.
“Sara,” Abbie said, keeping pace. “Breathe.”
“I’m breathing.”
“You’re walking like you’re about to commit a felony in bridal sandals.”
Sara glanced down. She had forgotten she was still wearing the delicate white sandals from brunch. The thin straps looked ridiculous against the stone path, too pretty for the ugly thing unfolding inside her.
“It could be someone else,” she said.
Abbie didn’t answer.
“Men have similar shoulders.”
“Not enough for me to lie to you.”
Sara swallowed hard.
The villas along the eastern side of the resort were more private than the honeymoon suites, tucked behind palms and flowering hedges.
Brayden had said the influencer guests were staying in the main tower because it was easier for filming.
He’d made a joke about not wanting them too close to the honeymoon villas.Another lie. Maybe. Maybe not.Please, not.
Brooklyn’s story had shown a sliver of tile near the terrace, blue and white in a pattern Sara recognized from the villa row by the spa.
She and Brayden had passed it during their resort tour.
He’d promised her that once the farewell brunch ended, the rest of the trip would be theirs.
No guests. No distractions. Just their honeymoon.
The story disappeared from Brooklyn’s account while Sara was walking.
Abbie cursed softly. “She deleted it.”
“I saved it.”
“Good.”
They slowed near Villa 8, where music played low behind white curtains. Sara stopped behind a wall of bougainvillea. Her heart beat so hard that she could feel it in her throat, her wrists, the soles of her feet.
Abbie touched her arm. “You don’t have to look.”
“Yes, I do.”
The terrace door was open a few inches. Voices drifted out.
Brooklyn laughed first. “You’re so paranoid.”
“I’m careful,” Brayden said.
Sara’s mouth went dry.That was his voice. Not the voice he used in reels. Not the one he had used at the altar. This was lower, looser, intimate.
Brooklyn said, “Your wife is at brunch hugging old ladies. She’s not coming down here.”
“Don’t call her that.”
“What, your wife?”
There was a rustle, then Brayden’s laugh. “You’re being messy.”
“You married her yesterday, Brayden. If I don’t laugh, I’ll feel cheap.”
“You knew the plan.”
The plan. Sara’s covered her mouth with her hand. Beside her Abbie’s fingers closed around her wrist. She looked ready to murder.
Brooklyn’s voice lowered, teasing. “I know. You play husband for a few days, get your perfect honeymoon content, make the sponsor happy, then figure out the rest.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is if you stop pretending you’re scared of her.”
“I’m not scared of Sara.”
“No. You’re scared of losing what comes with her.”
Silence.
Sara waited for Brayden to deny it. He didn’t.
Brooklyn laughed again, softer this time. “Relax. She’s sweet. Girls like her don’t make scenes. They cry in bathrooms and forgive men who embarrass them.”
Sara stepped closer before Abbie could stop her and looked through the narrow gap between the curtains.The bed was rumpled.
Two champagne glasses sat on the low table, one marked with Brooklyn’s lipstick.
Brayden’s wedding ring rested beside them, a small bright circle on the polished wood.
Brooklyn sat on the sofa in the hoodie, bare legs folded under her, her glossy hair spilling over one shoulder.
Brayden stood barefoot, his wrinkled in his hand.
Brooklyn reached for him and tugged him closer by the waistband.
“You weren’t this worried twenty minutes ago,” she said.
Brayden leaned down and kissed her like he had kissed her before. Not frantic. Not guilty. Familiar.
Sara didn’t make a sound.That felt like the strangest part later.
She didn’t scream. She didn’t fling the door open.
She didn’t march inside and slap him, even though her hand twitched with the urge.
She watched her husband kiss another woman during the first day of their honeymoon, and the cheerful music from the villa speaker kept playing as if nothing sacred had been broken.Abbie pulled her away.
Sara stumbled back along the path, her vision blurring around the edges. The resort remained obscenely beautiful. Palms swayed. A golf cart hummed past. Somewhere, a woman laughed about sunscreen.
Abbie guided her behind a cabana wall and put both hands on her shoulders. “Look at me.”
Sara shook her head. If she looked at Abbie, she would fall apart.
“Look at me, Sara.”
She did.
Abbie’s eyes were wet and furious. “This is not your fault.”
Sara tried to speak. Nothing came out.
“It’s not your fault,” Abbie repeated. “He brought trash into paradise. That’s on him.”
Sara’s phone buzzed. The screen lit with Brayden’s name.
Brayden: Where are you? Need you dressed and smiling for the sunset newlywed shoot. Big sponsor is watching.
Sara stared at the message until the letters blurred. Dressed and smiling.Her husband had just kissed Brooklyn in a villa and wanted Sara to put on silk for the camera.
Abbie saw the text and made a sound of disgust. “Give me your phone before I ruin his entire bloodline.”
Sara pulled it close instead. “No.”
Abbie’s expression sharpened. “No?”
Sara looked back toward the villa path. Her body shook, but the tremor no longer felt like fear alone. “If I confront him now, he’ll say I’m emotional. He’ll say I misunderstood. She’ll delete everything. He’ll make me look jealous in front of everyone.”
Abbie nodded slowly. “Yes.”
Sara wiped under her eyes with the heel of her hand, careful not to smear makeup she had barely put on. “I need proof.”
The words felt cold in her mouth.
Abbie’s smile was small and vicious. “That’s my girl. We’ll get proof and then I’ll ruin his bloodline.”
Sara looked at the message again. Big sponsor is watching.She typed back with fingers that barely trembled.
Sara: I needed a little rest. I’ll be ready.
Brayden answered immediately.
Brayden: That’s my wife. Wear white.
Sara stared at those two words until the humiliation burned clean through her grief. My wife.
He had no idea what he had just lost.