Shayla never imagined that a quiet evening would destroy everything she believed in.

The house was unusually silent that night. Too silent. Shayla had come over to Iman’s place unannounced—something she rarely did—but her heart felt uneasy all day. Iman had been distant lately. Short replies. Missed calls. Excuses that didn’t quite add up.

She told herself she was overthinking.

She wasn’t.

As she stepped inside, her eyes immediately caught something that didn’t belong—wedding dress photos spread neatly across the coffee table. Elegant gowns. White lace. Handwritten notes tucked between the pages. A vision of a future she didn’t recognize.

Her chest tightened.

Then she saw them.

Iman sat on the couch, relaxed, his arm wrapped comfortably around Delicia, who leaned into him with a soft smile. They looked… peaceful. Planned. United. Like two people already living a life together.

Shayla froze.

Her mind screamed, but her body wouldn’t move.

Delicia laughed softly, pointing at one of the photos.
“This one,” she said. “This is the dress.”

Iman nodded. “Yeah. That’s the one.”

That was the moment Shayla’s world cracked in half.

Her breath became shallow. Her hands trembled. She stepped forward, and the sound of her movement finally made them look up.

Iman’s face went pale.

“Shayla—”

But it was too late.

Her eyes filled with tears as the truth slammed into her with brutal force. This wasn’t a misunderstanding. This wasn’t a rumor. This was a wedding. A future he had planned—with someone else.

“You’re getting married?” Shayla whispered, her voice barely holding together.

Silence answered her.

Delicia slowly stood, guilt flickering across her face—but she said nothing.

Shayla’s legs gave out, and she collapsed onto a nearby chair, tears spilling uncontrollably. Every memory flashed before her eyes—late-night talks, promises, laughter, the way Iman once told her she was the only one who understood him.

“All those times you said you were busy,” Shayla cried, her voice breaking. “All the nights I waited… this is what you were doing?”

Iman stood up, running his hands through his hair. “Shayla, it’s not—”

“DON’T,” she snapped through sobs. “Don’t explain it away. I’m looking at it. Wedding plans. Dresses. Her.”

Her gaze turned to Delicia, pain and betrayal burning in her eyes.

“You knew about me,” Shayla whispered.

Delicia swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

That sentence shattered what little strength Shayla had left.

She stood up, wiping her tears with shaking hands. “Funny how it never does.”

Her heart felt like it was being ripped apart slowly, painfully. She realized then that while she was holding onto hope, Iman had already chosen a future without her.

Without another word, Shayla turned and walked toward the door.

Iman called after her. “Shayla, wait!”

She stopped—but didn’t turn around.

“I hope the wedding is everything you planned,” she said quietly. “Because you just destroyed everything I believed in.”

The door closed behind her.

Outside, Shayla finally let herself fall apart. She slid down the wall, sobbing into her hands, mourning not just a relationship—but the future she thought was hers.

That night, Shayla didn’t just lose Iman.