Outwardly, I nodded and played along, but inside, the sting of betrayal cut deep. When he returned at dawn—cheerful, exhausted, and armed with a flimsy excuse—I knew.
The next morning, I messaged him from the fa:ke profile, thanking him for “the incredible night.” I watched his face drain of color as the realization hit. He finally understood he’d walked straight into a trap that I knew everything.
I didn’t scream. I didn’t throw accusations.
Next
