My Groom Cheated With His Ex Before Our Wedding

The enlarged image was so pixelated that it was impossible to discern any details. Even though the silhouette didn't reveal anything remarkable, the moment Alex's name crossed my mind, I was captivated as if under a spell. I couldn't resist; my hands shook as I continued scrolling down.

The most recent post was from three hours ago, with the previous one dating back ten days to the afternoon. I remembered that day clearly. Alex had taken a day off to be with me as I tried on Victorian-style dresses. The shop assistant cheekily remarked that Alex was smiling behind me, clearly enchanted.

Reflecting on this, I browsed through my photo album. I had taken numerous selfies that day, one of which included both of us. While I reveled in the joy of soon wearing a stunning gown and marrying the love of my life, Alex stood behind me, smiling at his phone.

My heart sank. Shortly afterward, he received a call. He explained that the intern at his company had made an error in their proposal, and he had to rush back to fix it. He hugged me apologetically, expressing regret repeatedly.

I never doubted him. Instead, I assured him that work was a priority. After I finished trying on other dresses, he resolved the issue and returned to pick me up. We then had dinner and watched a movie. Everything seemed normal, like any typical day.

I had no hint of what was amiss. My breath quickened as I continued scrolling down, feeling a surge of resentment. So many posts. There were more. The longest gap between posts was two weeks, while the most frequent was five times a week. But they were so long ago, and my memory isn't the best. Sometimes, I struggle to recall what I did or ate the previous day without dwelling on it. My mind was already a tangled mess.

I couldn't remember what Alex was doing at those corresponding times. Was he genuinely absent each time?

Suddenly, a clap of thunder jolted me back to reality. My hands trembled as I dialed Alex's number.

"Where are you?"

"At the door, darling."

In the next moment, the door swung open. A chilly breeze swept in.

"I saw the weather forecast predicting heavy rain and thunderstorms, so I hurried back," he said as he walked over, crouching in front of me and gently patting my head to comfort me. "No worries, I'm here now."

I had a deep-seated fear of thunderstorms. Once, while he was traveling for work, he checked the weather forecast for my area, noticed there'd be a storm at night, and returned to be with me, leaving again early the next morning. In the past, this always deeply moved me.

But this time, I couldn't help linking it to the posts on Facebook. Same trip abroad, same urgent return from afar.

"Wow, babe, you finished decorating? It looks amazing, really sets the mood," he remarked, admiring the room, his eyes suddenly getting teary. "I can't believe we’re finally getting married."

I interjected sharply, "It's late; go take a shower."

"Alright, sweetheart."

After he went into the bathroom, I picked up his phone.