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You'd had your suspicions for a while, but it wasn't until you got the message on social media from a girl he'd dated and dumped who had photographic proof of it that you finally had to face the truth.
Your fiance was cheating on you.
Eric was a naga and had been with you for more than five years. He had asked you to marry him, ring and all, on New Years Eve with his family. He had made a big show of it, too. And now, you were going to have to confront him about being a cheating bastard.
The woman who had been dumped told you that he was now dating her friend, and she had gotten the room number where they were supposed to meet. You got to the hotel with your heart in your throat and knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" That was definitely Eric's voice. He had told you that his friend needed help moving and that he'd be staying over to help him. What a good friend he was.
You deepened your voice in an effort to mask it. "Room service."
"Oh, good, I was wondering if you were ever going to come," Eric said, and the door swung open. As soon as he saw you, the blood drained out of his already pale face.
"No, wait--"
"Hey, babe, did they bring the right wine this time?" A female voice said from inside.
You took off your ring and threw it in his face and called inside the room, "You can have the bastard." And walked away.
"Wait, please, this isn't what you think," Eric said, slithering quickly down the hall to catch you. He grabbed your arm and you wrenched it violently out of his grasp.
"Babe, who's this?" The woman said. She was human and pretty, you guessed.
"I'm his fiance," You retorted. "Oh, sorry, ex-fiance. Don't worry, he's all yours."
"What the fuck, Eric?!" She shouted at him. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Rachel, it's not..." He stuttered. "It isn't..."
Rachel slapped him and pushed past you toward the elevator, not looking back.
"Babe--" He started, turning back toward you.
"Don't you dare call me 'babe,' you son of a bitch. Why? Why would you do this to me? Why would you waste five fucking years of my life?"
"I didn't mean to hurt you--"
"I don't give a shit what you meant to do! I want an explanation. Was the sex bad? Do you not love me anymore? Are you just the type of person who has to have a side-chick? What? What about this is good for you? What about all this made destroying our relationship worth it?"
He groaned and scratched his head with both hands. "I... It... I can be anything I want to be with those girls, you know? If I say I'm rich, then I'm rich. If I say I'm successful, then I'm successful, and they don't know better. They don't know I have a shitty job that I hate. They don't know that my girlfriend makes twice as much money as me, that she's popular with people and everyone likes her better than me, even my own fucking family. They don't know what a fucking loser I am."
