My fiance slept with a couple of strangers at her bachelorette party, so I disappeared without a trace. And what unfolded next? Shattered her perfect life beyond repair. All right, guys. Buckle up because this story is going to make you angry and satisfied at the same time. This happened 6 months ago, and I’m finally ready to tell the whole thing. Names changed obviously because I don’t want these people finding me.

Quick background on me. I,32 male work as a senior project manager at a construction company making around $165,000 a year. Not rich rich, but comfortable enough to have my own place, nice truck, and some investments. I’m also part owner of a small rental property business with my business partner. This becomes important later. Pretty much had my life together since college.

Met my ex- fiance Ashley when I was 28. She was 26, working some entry-level marketing coordinator job, making maybe $42,000. We met at this rooftop bar downtown through mutual friends. She was gorgeous, like legit 9 out of 10 blonde, perfect body, the whole package. But here’s the thing, she was also charming as heck when she wanted to be.

First few months were incredible. She was fun, spontaneous, always down for whatever. I thought I’d hit the jackpot. Looking back, I realized she was just auditioning for the role of girlfriend to guy with money.

Red flag started showing up around year two. She quit her marketing job because it was too stressful and started this Instagram influencer nonsense. Had like 3,000 followers and was constantly buying stuff for content. Guess who was funding this little venture? Yeah, me. But I was infatuated and thought I was being supportive.

She moved into my place after a year because rent is so expensive and her roommate was toxic. Again, I thought it was the natural progression. Really, she just wanted to lock down free housing while she played pretend entrepreneur.

The spending got worse over time. Designer handbags, weekly nail appointments, expensive dinners she’d post on social media. I’m making good money, so I didn’t stress about it. But she never offered to pay for anything ever. Even when she had sponsored posts bringing in some cash, it all went to more clothes and makeup.

When I proposed last year, she cried and said yes immediately. But looking back, those weren’t tears of joy. Those were tears of mission accomplished. We started planning this huge wedding that kept getting more expensive. She wanted everything to be Instagram worthy and unique. The budget went from 18,000 to 45,000 real quick.

Her friends were mostly other wannabe influencers and party girls. Her best friend Britney was the worst. Loud, obnoxious, always stirring up drama. She’d constantly encourage Ashley to go out and spend money because you only live once. And your man should spoil you. I tolerated her because Ashley claimed they were like sisters.

Which brings us to 3 months ago.

I wasn’t supposed to be home that Friday afternoon. Had a client meeting get cancelled last minute. So, I decided to surprise Ashley by coming home early. Maybe we’d grab dinner somewhere nice.

That’s when I saw the package.

Sitting right outside our apartment door was this glittery gift bag with a note that made my stomach drop.

To the wildest bride to be. You earned every second of it, girl. XOXO Brittney.

Now Brittney is the type of person who thinks being a messy troublemaker is a personality trait. She’s loud, dramatic, and has zero filter. Always thought she was jealous of what Ashley had locked down with me.

But this note, you earned every second of it. That didn’t sit right.

I brought the bag inside and stared at it on our kitchen counter. Part of me knew I shouldn’t open it, but something in my gut was screaming that I needed to see what was inside.

Typical bachelorette party stuff was on top. Plastic tiara, bride’s last ride sash, some glittery confetti that got everywhere. But underneath was a pair of men’s boxer briefs, used ones, not gag gift boxers from Spencer’s. Actually worn by some dude. My hands started shaking, but I told myself it had to be some weird joke.

Then I saw the flash drive tucked in the bottom.

I don’t know what possessed me to plug it into my laptop. Actually, that’s a lie. I knew exactly what was on there. Every instinct I had was screaming that my life was about to change forever.

The video started innocent enough. Ashley and her girls at some upscale club, bottle service, the works. Ashley looked incredible as always, wearing the tiara and sash. But there was something different about her energy. She wasn’t just celebrating. She was completely unleashed, like she’d been waiting for permission to let her true self out.

Next clip made my blood run cold.

Ashley was on stage at what was clearly a high-end strip club, not just grinding on one male stripper, but making out with him while her friends screamed encouragement. The camera work was steady. This wasn’t some accident. Britney was documenting everything deliberately.

I paused the video, hands shaking. Told myself it was just typical bachelorette party stuff. Embarrassing, but not relationship ending.

But there were more files.

The next video showed Ashley in some hotel suite with three different guys. Not strippers, just regular dudes they’d apparently picked up. She was all over them. And when one leaned in to kiss her, she kissed him back aggressively. Then she started making out with another one while the first guy was feeling her up.

The final clip was the worst. Ashley leading all three guys into what was obviously a bedroom while Britney narrated like it was some kind of nature documentary.

Look at our girl go. Ashley’s getting her last taste of freedom. You’re going to miss this.

I sat there staring at the black screen, feeling like someone had ripped my heart out through my throat.

This wasn’t the woman I’d been supporting for 3 years. This wasn’t the Ashley who talked about starting a family and building a life together. This was someone else entirely.

When Ashley came home that evening, she acted like nothing happened. Kissed me on the cheek, asked about my day, immediately started talking about some new wedding centerpiece idea she’d seen on Pinterest. I just nodded and smiled, pretending everything was normal.

But inside, I was done. Completely done.

That night, I didn’t sleep. Just laid there. Every laugh, every kiss, every touch feeling like a knife twisting in my gut.

The woman I thought I was marrying didn’t exist. Maybe she never had.

The next morning, Ashley got up early for some yoga class, kissed my forehead, and said, “Love you, babe. See you tonight.”

I smiled and said, “Love you, too.” Like a robot.

The second her car left the driveway, I went into full military mode.

First stop, my laptop. I copied everything from that flash drive onto a secure folder, then uploaded backups to three different cloud accounts. If this was going nuclear, I was keeping the evidence safe.

Then I started making calls. Called in sick to work, first time in 2 years. My supervisor is cool. He didn’t ask questions.

Then I called my business partner, the one I own rental properties with.

“Yo, I need to disappear for a while,” I told him. “Long story, but Ashley messed up bad and I’m done. Can I crash at the cabin?”

My business partner owns this awesome cabin about 3 hours north in the mountains. We bought it as a rental property, but keep it open for ourselves sometimes.

“Absolutely, man. Keys where it always is. You good though?”

“I will be,” I said. “Just need some time to think.”

Next, I started packing. Not everything. Just enough clothes for a week and my important documents. Left all the furniture, all the shared stuff. she could have it. I just wanted out.

While I was packing, I found our joint account info. Ashley had been spending my money for years, so it was time for a little financial adjustment. I transferred everything except $500 to my personal account. She’d figure it out when her cards got declined.

Before leaving, I grabbed all our wedding contracts. First call was to the venue.

“Hi, this is Jake,” I said, trying to sound normal. “I need to cancel our wedding reservation.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry to hear that. Can I ask what happened?”

“Change of plans. Life happens.”

She went through the whole spiel about cancellation fees and deposits. I didn’t give a darn.

“Just cancel it all,” I told her. “Send the paperwork to my email.”

Did the same with the caterer, the DJ, the photographer. Burned through about $9,500 in deposits and cancellation fees. But it was worth every penny to not have to deal with that stuff anymore.

The drive to my business partner’s cabin felt surreal. Three hours of mountain roads, no cell service for the last hour. Perfect. I needed to disappear completely and figure out my next move.

The cabin is incredible. Two bedrooms, full kitchen, fireplace, and a deck overlooking this pristine lake. My business partner and I had talked about retiring up there someday. Now it felt like my sanctuary. I dumped my stuff in the bedroom and just sat on the deck for an hour staring at the water. For the first time all day, I could breathe. No Ashley chattering about Instagram metrics or wedding planning. No Britney texting her drama. Just silence.

Around 6 p.m. my phone started buzzing with texts. Had to be Ashley realizing I was gone. I turned it off without reading them. Made myself dinner. Actually cooked for the first time in months instead of ordering takeout because Ashley didn’t feel like cooking. Sat by the fire and started planning my next moves.

See, here’s what Ashley didn’t know. She thought I was just some construction guy who’d roll over and forgive her. She had no idea what I was capable of when someone really messed me over. Time for her to find out.

Day two at the cabin, I called my cousin Tommy. Now Tommy is well, he’s the family wild card. 3 years younger than me, works in marketing, which means he runs some sketchy social media agency and has zero filter when it comes to calling people out on their nonsense. We’re complete opposites, but he’s always had my back.

“Jakey boy,” he answered on the first ring. “Haven’t heard from you in months. How’s the ball and chain?”

“That’s actually why I’m calling,” I said. “I need your help with something and you’re going to love this story.”

I told him everything. The videos, the cheating, how I disappeared. By the end, Tommy was laughing his butt off.

“Bro, she messed around and found out. What do you need me to do?”

“I want to expose her, but I can’t do it directly. Too messy. You still have connections in the influencer world.”

Tommy runs this agency that manages only fans, girls, and Instagram models. Sounds sleazy, but the dude makes bank and knows everyone in that scene.

“Oh, heck yeah. I know exactly who to call. This is going to be beautiful. Send me everything.”

I uploaded all the evidence to a secure folder and sent him the link.

“Go nuclear, but don’t make it traceable back to me. I want her to burn, but I don’t want the drama.”

“Consider it done, cousin. This chick is about to learn why you don’t mess with family.”

While Tommy worked his magic, I focused on my own moves. First was dealing with Ashley’s financial situation. See, she’d been living off me for years, but everything was structured so I could cut her off clean.

The apartment lease, only my name, car insurance, my policy with her as a driver, phone plan, my account, credit cards. She had authorized user status on mine, but no cards in her own name because her credit was terrible.

I called my insurance company first. I need to remove someone from my auto policy immediately. Done.

Then the phone company. I need to cancel service for one of the lines on my account. Also done.

But the real nuclear option was the credit cards. I called each company and reported the authorized user cards as lost. They’d send new ones to my address only. Ashley’s cards would all get declined within 24 hours.

The beauty of it, completely legal. Everything was in my name because little miss influencer never bothered to build her own financial independence.

My phone had been buzzing constantly with notifications. So, I finally turned it on to see the damage. Over 50 messages from Ashley, starting confused and getting more panicked.

Babe, where are you? Your office said you called in sick.

Jake, this isn’t funny. Where did you go?

Why is half the money gone from our account?

My card got declined at Starbucks. What’s going on, Jake?

Answer your phone right now. I know you’re seeing these messages.

Come home so we can talk.

Whatever you think happened, you’re wrong. I can explain everything.

I didn’t respond to any of them. let her panic.

Day three, Tommy called with an update.

“Dude, this is better than I expected. I showed the videos to Madison. You remember her? The blonde with the big following who does those Tik Tok dances? Anyway, she knows your girl Ashley.”

“Apparently, Ashley’s been talking trash about having you wrapped around her finger and how she’s going to get a huge ring upgrade after the wedding.”

“What do you mean upgrade?”

“Madison says, Ashley’s been telling people your engagement ring was just a starter ring and she was planning to pressure you into buying something bigger for your first anniversary. Also been bragging about how she’s never had to work because she found her wallet with legs.”

My blood started boiling. A starter ring. I’d spent $14,000 on that ring, nearly 3 months salary, and she was calling me a wallet with legs.

“There’s more,” Tommy continued. “Madison’s gonna post about it on her story. She’s got like 85,000 followers and a lot of them know Ashley. It’s going to spread fast.”

“What’s she going to say?”

“Just that she saw some concerning videos of a local influencer cheating on her fianceé at her bachelorette party. Won’t name names directly, but anyone who knows Ashley will figure it out quick.”

Perfect. Let Ashley’s precious influencer reputation get destroyed by her own community.

“Oh, and Jake. I found out where she’s been staying. She’s crashing at Britney’s place, but apparently they’re already fighting because Britney doesn’t want the drama at her apartment.”

Even better. Her support system was already cracking.

That evening, I sat on the deck watching the sunset. For the first time in years, I felt completely at peace. No walking on eggshells around Ashley’s mood swings. No listening to her complain about everything being so expensive while she bought another $200 purse. No pretending to care about her Instagram analytics. Just me, the mountains, and the sweet taste of justice brewing.

Day four at the cabin, I decided it was time for the nuclear option, telling Ashley’s parents. Now, Robert and Linda are old school conservatives who’ve always looked down on me for living in sin with their daughter. They made it clear from day one that I wasn’t good enough for their precious princess. Robert’s some mid-level bank manager who acts like he’s a Fortune 500 CEO. Linda’s a stay-at-home mom who spends her time judging other people’s life choices at church functions. They both treated me like I was corrupting their daughter by letting her move in before marriage.

Ironic considering their innocent daughter was the one corrupting herself.

When Ashley and I got engaged, suddenly they warmed up to me, started talking about grandchildren and offering to help with a house down payment. Translation: They saw dollar signs and realized I was their retirement plan through Ashley.

But after seeing those videos, I couldn’t let them keep living in their fantasy world about what their daughter really was.

I drove into town and called Linda from a diner parking lot.

“Hi, Linda. It’s Jake. I need to talk to you and Robert about Ashley. Can I come over?”

“Of course, dear. Is everything all right? Ashley said you two had a little disagreement, but—”

“We need to talk in person,” I cut her off. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

The drive to their house felt like driving to my own execution, but I knew this had to be done. Robert answered the door looking confused but pleased to see me.

“Jake, good to see you, son. Linda said you wanted to talk about Ashley.”

“Yeah, we need to sit down for this.”

They led me to their pristine living room with the plastic covered furniture and family photos everywhere. Ashley smiled from every frame. Their perfect little angel.

“So, what’s this disagreement about?” Linda asked, settling into her chair with a concerned expression.

I pulled out my laptop.

“It’s not a disagreement. It’s about what Ashley did at her bachelorette party. The wedding is off.”

Robert’s face got serious.

“Now hold on. What could she have possibly done that’s so bad you’d call off—”

“Watch this,” I said, turning the laptop toward them.

The next 5 minutes were pure satisfaction. Watching Robert’s face turn red with rage while Linda covered her mouth in horror. Their perfect little princess grinding on strippers, making out with random guys, disappearing into hotel rooms.

“Oh my god,” Linda whispered when it finished. “This can’t be real. Tell me this isn’t real.”

“It’s real,” I said calmly. “And there’s more. Britney documented the whole thing because she thought it was funny.”

Robert stood up, pacing behind his chair.

“That little— I can’t believe we raised her better than this.”

“Did you though?” I asked. “Because this isn’t some one-time mistake. This is who Ashley really is when you’re not watching.”

Linda started crying.

“How could she do this to you? To us? What will people think?”

“I don’t really care what people think,” I said. “But I thought you deserve to know the truth before she spins some story about me being the bad guy.”

Robert stopped pacing.

“What do you mean? She’s—”

“She’s been telling people I overreacted to some harmless fun. That I’m controlling and couldn’t handle her having a good time. She’s not taking responsibility for anything.”

That set Linda off.

“Controlling? You’ve given her everything. You pay for her apartment, her car, her ridiculous shopping habits. How dare she?”

“Actually, about that,” I interrupted. “I’ve cut her off financially. The apartment lease is only in my name, so she’ll need to find somewhere else to live. Just thought you should know.”

The silence was deafening.

Robert sat back down heavily.

“So she’s— she has nowhere to go.”

“She’s staying with Britney for now, but I hear that’s not going well either.”

Linda looked between me and Robert.

“Robert, maybe we should… I mean, she’s still our daughter.”

“No,” Robert said firmly. “She made her choice. She embarrassed herself. embarrassed this family and threw away the best thing that ever happened to her. She can figure out her own mess.”

I stood up to leave.

“Look, I’m sorry to drop this on you, but I wanted you to hear it from me instead of through gossip. You’re good people. You didn’t deserve to be blindsided.”

Linda grabbed my arm as I walked to the door.

“Jake, please. Isn’t there some way to work through this? She loves you. I know she does.”

I gently pulled away.

“Linda, she doesn’t love me. She loves what I provide. There’s a difference.”

As I drove back to the cabin, my phone started blowing up. Ashley had obviously gotten word that I’d talked to her parents. The messages were a mix of panic and rage.

My parents kicked me out thanks to you.

How could you show them that? That was private.

You’re destroying my life over one mistake.

I’m staying in my car because I have nowhere else to go.

I hope you’re happy.

I wasn’t happy. I was satisfied. There’s a difference.

Day six brought the nuclear winter I’d been waiting for. Tommy called me at 8:00 a.m. barely able to contain his excitement.

“Bro, you need to see this stuff. Madison’s story went viral and now everyone’s talking about it. Ashley’s getting roasted in every group chat and comment section.”

I grabbed my laptop and started scrolling. Holy cow, it was beautiful chaos.

Madison had posted a subtle but devastating story. Y’all be careful who you trust. Just saw some disturbing videos of a local influencer cheating on her man at her bachelorette party. Sis really documented her own downfall. Her karma. Eird choose better.

The comments were savage. Not the blonde girl who’s always posting about her perfect relationship. Wait, is this about Ashley? Someone DM me the tea. If this is who I think it is, she’s been talking trash about her fianceé for months. The audacity to cheat and film it. Some people have no shame.

But Madison’s post was just the beginning. Other influencers started sharing their own stories about Ashley. Turns out she’d been burning bridges all over the scene.

One girl posted, “This is the same chick who tried to steal my sponsor deal by DMing them fake screenshots of me talking trash about their brand. Karma is beautiful.”

Another, “She’s been sliding into my boyfriend’s DMs for months. Glad someone finally exposed her.”

The influencer community is small and petty as heck. Once they smell blood in the water, they turn into sharks.

Ashley’s follower count started plummeting. Brand partnerships were pulling out. Her carefully constructed online persona was crumbling in real time.

Tommy sent me screenshots all day. Ashley had posted a desperate damage control story. People are spreading lies about me right now. Don’t believe everything you see online. Some people can’t handle strong women living their truth. Haters going to hate.

The comments were not having it.

Girl, we literally saw the receipts.

Strong women don’t cheat on their fianceé.

El Mau living your truth. Sleeping with randos.

Okay, sis, delete this and get some therapy.

By noon, Ashley had deleted the story and made her account private, but the internet never forgets. Screenshots were being shared everywhere.

The best part, local news picked it up. Not the big stations, but one of those gossip blogs that covers influencer drama. Headline: Local Instagram model caught cheating loses everything. They didn’t use her name, but included enough details that everyone knew exactly who it was. Ashley’s carefully curated image was now permanently associated with cheating, lies, and general messiness. Her influencer career dead and buried.

Meanwhile, I was getting messages from people I hadn’t talked to in years.

Dude, I saw the news about Ashley. You dodged a bullet.

Always knew something was off about her. Too fake.

Better to find out now than after the wedding.

You’re better off.

Even people from work were reaching out. Apparently, Ashley had been sliding into some of my co-workers DMs over the years, fishing for information about my salary and bonus schedule. Professional networking my butt. She was calculating my net worth.

That evening, my business partner called to check on me.

“Saw the drama online. You doing all right up there?”

“Better than all right,” I told him. “Best I felt in years.”

“Good. That girl was poison, man. Always gave me bad vibes. You staying at the cabin much longer.”

“Few more days. Got to let the nuclear fallout settle first.”

“Take all the time you need. And Jake, I’m proud of you for walking away. Takes guts to blow up your life when someone disrespects you like that.”

That night, I made a fire and watched the flames dance while reading through all the drama online. Ashley had lost her influence, her career, her family support, her housing, her financial stability, and her social circle. All because she couldn’t keep her legs closed for one night. Beautiful.

Week two at the cabin brought news that made my cold heart grow three sizes. Tommy called with updates that were better than Christmas morning.

“Dude, Ashley is completely screwed,” he said. “Like biblical level destruction. You got to hear this.”

Apparently, Ashley’s downward spiral was accelerating. After her parents kicked her out and Britney got tired of her drama, she’d been bouncing between different friends couches. But word had spread about the cheating and nobody wanted to get involved. She tried staying with that girl, Kayla, but Kayla’s boyfriend said heck no when he found out what Ashley did. Now she’s living in her car in some Walmart parking lot.

I almost felt bad. Almost.

“Gets better, though,” Tommy continued. “Remember how she lost all those brand partnerships? Well, turns out one of them was for some fitness tea company that has a morality clause in their contracts. They’re not just dropping her. They’re demanding she pay back the $3,500 they gave her upfront.”

“She doesn’t have $3,500,” I said.

“Exactly. She’s screwed. But wait, there’s more.”

Tommy told me Ashley had been calling around to different people trying to borrow money. Her parents wouldn’t answer her calls. Old friends were ignoring her. She’d even reached out to some of my buddies asking if they could lend her cash for a security deposit on an apartment. Your business partner told her to lose his number.

Tommy laughed.

“Said she had some nerve asking for money after what she did to you.”

The desperation was beautiful. Ashley had spent years talking about being an independent woman and a boss babe. But the second her free ride ended, she was begging everyone for handouts.

But the real knife twist came from an unexpected source. Tommy had been digging around and found out that Ashley’s ex before me, some dude named Brad, had posted about her in a Reddit relationship forum.

“I found the post. This Brad guy basically called her a gold digging psycho who cheated on him, too. posted it right after Madison’s story blew up. Want me to send you the link?”

“Heck yes.”

The post was titled, “My cheating ex is finally getting exposed, and it’s beautiful karma.”

Brad laid out everything. How Ashley had moved in with him after 3 months. Quit her job because it was stressful. Spent all his money on clothes and makeup, then cheated on him with some guy she met at a club. She tried to gaslight me into thinking I was controlling for being upset.

Brad wrote, “Kept saying it was just harmless flirting and I was being insecure. Sound familiar to anyone else dealing with this type of woman?”

The comments were savage.

These women are all the same. Find a provider, drain his resources, then cheat when they get bored.

Classic narcissist behavior.

She’ll never change.

Glad she finally got exposed.

Men need to warn each other about women like this.

Reading that post was like finding the missing piece of a puzzle. Ashley’s behavior with me wasn’t some one-time thing. It was her pattern. She was a professional user who’d perfected the art of finding decent guys and bleeding them dry.

The pattern was always the same. Be charming and fun at first, move in quickly to secure housing, quit working to focus on personal projects, spend the guy’s money while contributing nothing, then cheat when she got bored or found a better option.

I wasn’t her victim. I was just her latest mark, who happened to have enough self-respect to walk away.

That weekend, my business partner drove up to the cabin with groceries and snacks. We spent the evening on the deck talking about everything that had happened.

“You know what the crazy part is?” my business partner said. “She could have had it all. You were ready to marry her. Give her the whole suburban dream. All she had to do was not mess with other guys.”

“She couldn’t help herself,” I said. “Some people are just wired wrong. They always want what they don’t have. Think she’ll learn from this?”

I took a long sip from my soda.

“Nah, she’ll find some other sucker to take care of her. Might take a while since her reputation is trashed, but there’s always another lonely guy looking for a pretty face.”

“Not your problem anymore, though.”

“Exactly. Not my circus. Not my monkeys.”

We sat in comfortable silence watching the stars. For the first time in 3 years, I felt truly free. No more walking on eggshells. No more funding someone else’s fantasy lifestyle. No more pretending that Ashley’s constant need for attention and validation was cute instead of exhausting. I was done being anyone’s ATM with legs.

Three weeks after everything exploded, I was finally ready to come back to civilization. The cabin had been perfect for clearing my head, but I had a life to get back to. Work, friends, my actual future instead of the fake one I’d been building with Ashley.

I’d been monitoring the fallout from a distance through Tommy’s updates. But seeing it firsthand when I got back to town was even more satisfying than I’d imagined.

First stop was my apartment. I’d given Ashley 30 days to get her stuff out before I changed the locks. The place was trashed. Like she’d had some kind of breakdown and taken it out on my furniture. Couch cushions slashed, holes punched in walls, my TV smashed. She’d even taken scissors to all the photos of us and left the pieces scattered around.

Perfect. Now I had documentation of property damage to make sure she couldn’t come back and claim I owed her anything. I called my insurance company to report the damage, took pictures of everything, then called a cleaning service. Within 48 hours, it was like Ashley had never existed in my space.

The real entertainment started that weekend. Tommy called me Saturday morning, laughing his butt off.

“Bro, you’re not going to believe this. Ashley and Britney tried to get into your business partner’s bar last night. Security wouldn’t let them in because he put them on the band list.”

My business partner owns this upscale sports bar downtown where a lot of construction workers and young professionals hang out. It’s always packed on weekends.

“Ashley apparently caused a scene outside screaming about how you ruined her life and how she was going to sue everyone. Cops showed up and everything.”

The mental image was beautiful. Ashley having a public meltdown outside one of the most popular spots in town, cementing her reputation as the crazy ex who couldn’t handle consequences.

But the real cherry on top came Monday morning. I was back at work catching up on 3 weeks of emails when my assistant knocked on my door.

“Jake, there’s someone here to see you. Says it’s personal.”

I looked through the office window and nearly choked on my coffee. Ashley was sitting in our lobby wearing sweatpants and looking like she hadn’t slept in days. Her usually perfect hair was greasy and pulled back in a messy bun. No makeup, no designer clothes, no Instagram ready poses. This was Ashley stripped of all her artifice, and she looked exactly like what she was. Desperate.

“Tell her I’m busy,” I said.

“She says she’ll wait.”

“Uh, of course she would.”

I finished my morning meetings, grabbed lunch, answered emails. Every time I walked past the lobby, she was still there. By 300 p.m., I was curious enough to see what kind of nonsense she was planning to spin.

“5 minutes,” I told my assistant. “Then call security.”

Ashley followed me into my office, looking smaller than I’d ever seen her. She sat down across from my desk and immediately started crying.

“Jake, I’m so sorry. I messed up so bad. I know what I did was wrong, but I was drunk and Britney kept pushing me to do crazy stuff and I wasn’t thinking straight and—”

“Stop,” I cut her off. “What do you want?”

“I want to fix this. I want us back. I’ll do anything. Therapy, counseling, whatever you want. I love you and I can’t live without you.”

I leaned back in my chair and really looked at her. Three weeks ago, she was this polished Instagram princess who thought she was too good for me. Now she was a broken woman sitting in my office, begging for another chance.

“Where are you living?” I asked.

“I… I’m staying with different people. Sometimes in my car, but I can figure it out if you just give me another chance.”

“And money? How are you eating?”

Her face crumpled.

“I picked up some shifts at a diner downtown. It’s just temporary until I can get back on my feet.”

Ashley, who used to spend $40 on a single lunch because it was aesthetic, was now slinging hash at some crappy diner for minimum wage and tips.

“What about your influencer career?”

“Everyone hates me,” she whispered. “I can’t get any brand deals. My followers dropped from 15,000 to like 800. It’s over.”

The silence stretched between us. I could see her calculating, trying to figure out what angle would work. Finally, she played her last card.

“I’m pregnant.”

I laughed. Ashley laughed out loud.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. I took a test and—”

“Ashley, you’ve been on birth control for 3 years, and even if you were pregnant, we both know it probably isn’t mine, considering what you did at your bachelorette party.”

She deflated completely. No more tears, no more manipulation tactics, just defeat.

“So, that’s it. You’re really done with me?”

I stood up.

“I was done with you the moment I saw those videos. This conversation is just entertainment for me. But I have nothing.”

“My parents won’t talk to me. I have no money, no friends. You can’t just abandon me.”

“Watch me,” I said, walking to the door. “Security will escort you out.”

As she was being led away, Ashley turned back and screamed, “You’ll regret this. I made you better than you were. You’re nothing without me.”

The entire office was staring. Perfect. Let everyone see what kind of person I’d been tied to.

That evening, Tommy called me laughing so hard he could barely speak.

“Dude, Ashley just showed up at Britney’s apartment building, begging to stay there again. Britney literally called the cops and had her trespassed from the property.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was. Get this. She’s been posting on Facebook asking if anyone knows of cheap rooms for rent and offering to work off the deposit with cleaning services or other help. The comments are brutal. People are roasting her.”

I pulled up Facebook on my phone. Sure enough, Ashley had posted in several local housing groups with increasingly desperate messages.

Hi everyone, I’m looking for a room to rent ASAP. I can pay $300 a month max and I’m willing to work off the deposit by cleaning, cooking, or helping around the house. I’m very neat and quiet. Please message me if you have anything available.

The comments were savage.

Isn’t this the girl who got exposed for cheating on her fianceé?

$300 in this market. Good luck with that.

Maybe try getting a real job instead of influencing.

I wouldn’t trust someone who cheats to be alone in my house.

But the best comment came from someone who recognized her.

Girl, you used to post about spending $300 on brunch. Now you want to pay that for a whole month of rent. How the mighty have fallen.

2 days later, Tommy called with the ultimate update.

“Bro, you’re not going to believe this. Ashley’s working at not one but two jobs now.”

“The diner during the day and some gas station overnight. And get this, she’s living in a weekly motel off the interstate.”

“A weekly motel?”

“Yeah. One of those sketchy places that charges like $200 a week. She posted about it on her Instagram story before deleting it. Basically begging for sympathy about how hard life is right now and how some people will destroy your life over small mistakes.”

I almost felt bad. Almost. But then I remembered the videos, the lies, the three years of my life and money she’d wasted.

“Oh, and the best part,” Tommy continued. “Britney threw her under the bus completely. She did this whole Instagram live talking about how Ashley manipulated and used her and how she was forced to go along with the bachelorette party stuff. She’s trying to save her own reputation by making Ashley look even worse.”

The irony was perfect. Ashley’s best friend, the one who’d encouraged and documented everything, was now painting herself as another victim of Ashley’s manipulation.

A month later, I was having lunch downtown when I saw her. Ashley was walking out of the diner where she worked, wearing a stained uniform and looking exhausted. She saw me too and froze. For a second, I thought she might approach me, but then she just looked down and hurried to her beat up car. Some ancient Honda she’d apparently bought from a used car lot.

That was the last time I saw her in person.

But the story doesn’t end there.

6 months after everything went down, Tommy called with news that was better than winning the lottery.

“Dude, Ashley’s pregnant for real this time.”

“What?”

“Yeah. And you’re going to love this. She doesn’t know who the father is. Could be any of the three guys from the bachelorette party or some new dude she’s been seeing. She posted in one of those mom groups asking about options for single mothers and someone screenshot it and sent it to Madison.”

“The comments on that post were apparently brutal. People calling her out for her past behavior, questioning her ability to raise a child, suggesting she give the baby up for adoption.”

“Gets better though,” Tommy said. “She tried reaching out to all three guys from that night. Two of them blocked her immediately. The third one demanded a paternity test and said he’d fight for custody if it was his because he doesn’t trust her to raise a kid properly.”

The final nail in the coffin came when Ashley tried one last desperate move. She reached out to me through a mutual acquaintance, begging me to meet with her. Said she had important news and needed my help. I ignored it completely.

3 weeks later, the mutual acquaintance told me Ashley had given up. She was moving back to her hometown about 4 hours away to live with some distant relative who’d agreed to take her in temporarily.

“She kept saying it was all a big misunderstanding and that you’d ruined her life over nothing,” the acquaintance said. “But honestly, after hearing the whole story, most people think you dodged a major bullet.”

As I write this, it’s been almost a year since I walked out of that apartment. Ashley’s Instagram account is gone. The weekly motel post stopped months ago. According to Tommy, she had the baby and is apparently working at some retail store in her hometown while living with her relative.