The Buyer Who Knew Too Much

Impossible. I had just seen everything clearly a moment ago.

The man hadn ot just arranged a meeting–he had sent revealing photos of my girlfriend and even told her exactly what to wear.

"Did you stay up all night doing deliveries? You're imagining things.

"I asked you to sell the camera to help with expenses, and this is what I get? You're accusing me of what, exactly?"

I ignored her. I kept clicking, scrolling up and down. But like it had never existed, every message was gone.

Chloe snapped and slapped me across the back.

"I can't live like this anymore. Let's break up!"

That slap snapped me back to reality.

How could I bear to lose her? A girlfriend like her–if we broke up, I would probably stay single forever.

I quickly pulled her into my arms, apologizing again and again.

She would not let it go. I almost dropped to my knees.

We argued until midnight. She maxed out my last credit card, and I swore I would never doubt her again. Only then did her anger ease slightly.

"But there's one more thing."

She grabbed the mouse and turned off the 'Remember Password' option on her account.

"You're not allowed to use my account. That's private."

She was the one who asked me to sell the DSLR. Normally, I would have listed it on my own account. But the computer had auto-logged into hers–that was how all of this started.

I did not dare argue. I just nodded.

"Alright. Whatever you say."

After calming her down–and since I happened to be home that night–we ended up in bed.

By the time we were done, she was exhausted, falling asleep without even removing her makeup.

In the dark, I carefully got out of bed and went to the computer.

She had turned off auto-login and cleared the browsing history. But after living together this long, I had seen her enter her password enough times to remember it.

Those messages were not my imagination.

I had to find out the truth.

I logged in, opened the transaction, and checked the messages.

Empty.

Aside from the system notice confirming the deal, there was nothing.

I paused, then clicked into the buyer's profile.

That was when I noticed something wrong.

His profile picture was greyed out. The account had been deleted.

If there was nothing to hide, why delete the account so quickly?

Those suggestive photos kept replaying in my mind.

The more I thought about it, the more unsettled I felt. I took the entire next day off.

Triumph Hotel. I had to see for myself.

…

The next morning, Chloe acted like nothing had happened, casually handling one of her other cameras.

I tested her.

"The camera I sold–did you clear the memory card?"

"Of course," she replied. "You always check before selling something."

The answer sounded fine.

However, her eyes were blinking too quickly.

She was lying.

I did not expose her.

By nine-thirty that night, she was getting restless.

"Jake, aren't you going out to work?"

I sneered inwardly.

"Of course. Big night–I can't miss it."

I left the house and rode straight to Triumph Hotel.

I booked a room directly across from 701.

We had plenty of cameras at home. I brought a small one with me.

I was going to catch them together.

Ten o'clock. No one.

Eleven. Midnight.

Nothing was going the way I expected.

I stayed up until dawn, my eyes burning.

The door across the hall never opened.

Chloe never showed up.

Had I been wrong?

Did she really not betray me?

Were those messages and photos all in my head?

I wasn't even thirty yet. There was no way I could be this confused.