I Sold My Fiance To The Fake Heiress

Summary

It was the fourth hour I’d been waiting for Logan Reed at the couple’s-only restaurant on New Year’s Eve.

That’s when I saw the photo on my feed: Willow smiling sweetly beneath a shower of fireworks.

The caption read: [Our fifth annual firework spectacle. The person who truly loves you never cares about the real or the fake.]

The comments were a chorus of well-wishes for a lifetime of love.

The hand framed perfectly, almost touching her head in the photo, belonged to the man who’d promised me he’d “be right there” three hours ago: Logan.

I calmly tapped the ‘Like’ button.