They Thought I'd Walk Away With Nothing

At my own engagement party, the man I'd spent three years loving hurled a lab report at my face. The words "High-Risk HPV Positive" blazed across the giant screen behind him.

In front of the entire city's elite, I was reduced to nothing. A slut. A dirty woman no decent man would want.

My best friend rushed onto the stage and pulled me into her arms, eyes red, screaming at him to stop.

But in the very next second, a vicious, triumphant voice exploded inside my head — one only I could hear.

Cry all you want, you stupid little fool. Your fiancé? I had him last night.