The Reflection in My Fiancé’s Glasses Made My Heart Drop — an Unexpected FaceTime Ruined My Marriage

The day started like any other, with the mundane glow of morning light filtering through my blinds. It was meant to be just another day of ticking off tasks and counting down the last eight weeks to our wedding, a day like any other until it wasn’t.

I needed to make the final decision on the flowers and I was going to our local florist at noon to make sure I was happy with the mock-ups.

On one hand, I felt like everything was going just fine. But on the other, I was a little nervous that Chris wasn’t taking any of the wedding planning seriously.

He agreed to everything I wanted and barely gave his own input like he just wasn’t taking anything seriously.

I didn’t know how to feel about it, but I also knew that I was being sensitive about everything. I just wanted to have the perfect day.

“Talk to him, Haley,” my best friend, Claudia, said when I confessed my feelings during a beach day. “Tell him why his input means so much to you.”

And I wanted to. I wanted to tell Chris that despite all odds, we were getting married. I was only 23, and my parents had been against the wedding from the beginning.

“Come on, Haley,” my mother said. “What’s the rush? You’re still so young, and there’s an entire world for you to discover before settling down.”

“I love him,” I said, believing that it would be enough.

“I’ll support you because you’re my daughter and I want you to be happy, but please, do not mistake my support for my blessing.”

I nodded at her. I knew that eventually, my mother would come around—she always did.

But my father, on the other hand, refused to entertain the topic at all.

“I don’t have anything to say about this, Haley,” he said. “You are too young. And who is this boy? Chris is a few years older than you, but he’s still getting into his career. Can he support you?”

That had been almost a year ago. Since then, my parents seemed to thaw. They accepted Chris, but they were still uncertain about our marriage.

I made myself some coffee and settled down into my home office, ready to tackle the day before heading to the florist.

I glanced at the framed photo of Chris and me in Paris, a trip that now felt like a lifetime ago.

With a sigh, I picked up my phone, the screen lighting up with his smiling face as my background. I needed to ask him which flowers he preferred, his preferences for the reception menu, and another call I needed to make during the day.

So, I tapped FaceTime, expecting another quick check-in, as had become our routine.

The call connected, and there was Chris, sunglasses donned, sitting comfortably in his car with music playing in the background.

“Hey, babe,” he said, sounding casual as he put a mint into his mouth. “I’m just driving to meet with the guys, is this urgent or can I call you back?”

Before I could muster a reply, my eyes snagged on something odd. The glint of sunlight off his glasses should’ve shown the road, maybe the gray interior of his car.

But that’s not what I saw.

Instead, there were the unmistakable lines of a pair of legs, propped casually on his dashboard. Woman’s legs, barefoot, carefree. A gold anklet glittering in the sunlight.

My heart plummeted into my stomach, and I completely forgot about everything else.

“No, it’s nothing urgent,” I managed, my voice a whisper of its usual self.

Frantically, I took a screenshot of the last image before Chris dropped the call.

The call ended, but my pulse raced, thunderous and accusing, in my ears.

My fingers shook as I studied it, the damning evidence of betrayal was so blatant yet so unbelievable. I sent it to Claudia, needing another set of eyes.

“Am I seeing this right?” I texted, the screenshot flying through the digital space between us.

Her response was swift—she called me immediately.

“Those are definitely woman’s legs,” she said. “What the hell is he doing?”

“I have no idea,” I said. “Now what?”

“Check his location, see where he is. Go and see what he’s up to. I can meet you there if you want.”