Chapter 4

It had started with a story that went viral a week earlier.

A woman discovered her boyfriend was cheating, so she got revenge by sleeping with every one of his friends she found attractive. On their wedding day, the groom learned that practically every groomsman had been with his bride. According to the post, he was so furious he coughed up blood.

When Ethan brought it up with me, all I'd said was that she'd been foolish. He wasn't worth doing that to herself.

Ethan disagreed.

I hadn't thought much of it or kept the conversation going.

We were close to finding out about our full-time jobs. I didn't need an internet argument distracting me.

What I hadn't known was that Ethan and his friends had already dissected the story before he asked me.

Their verdict? The whole thing was the woman's fault.

“If she kept her boyfriend satisfied, why would he cheat? Take notes, Brooke. Something to remember when you get a man. ;)”

“Fuck off. I'm not that pathetic. Don't lump me in with those bitches. Nobody's been born who could play me.”

“Bet it wasn't even revenge. Bet she's just a slut. Probably cheated first.”

“Exactly. She was probably sleeping around all along. Now she's got an excuse to stop hiding it.”

“She's got a hell of a body, though. No wonder she got so many guys. I'd have a hard time saying no myself.”

These people might not have been society's finest, but in person they at least passed for decent human beings.

The vile shit they said in that chat made me feel like I was meeting all of them for the first time.

Ethan included.

After our conversation, he'd gone straight to the chat and repeated what I'd said.

Brooke jumped right in.

“Dude, no offense, but your girlfriend sounds like she thinks she's better than everyone. Can't imagine what you've been putting up with all these years. Your bro feels for you.”

Everyone loved Brooke in that chat. As soon as she said it, the others piled on.

Somehow, the woman in the viral story stopped being the target, and I took her place.

Ethan didn't stop them.

Brooke finally pulled out “I'm a woman, too. I know how they work,” and used a few details about our relationship to diagnose my entire personality.

Stuck-up. Fake. Pretentious. Materialistic. Petty. The list went on.

Ethan didn't object to a single word. He agreed.

He started airing every grievance he'd ever had with me, big or small.

The distance he'd chosen to put between himself and Brooke early in our relationship? Apparently that proved how jealous and controlling I was.

He'd pursued me for six months, then held me and told me he was the luckiest man alive. Now I was a calculating snob who'd strung him along while secretly comparing him with God knew how many better offers.

By the end, Ethan seemed to believe it himself.

They all agreed I needed to be taught a lesson.

They might as well test whether I deserved all the love and effort Ethan had put into me while they were at it.

The test went like this.

Ethan would pretend to cheat with Brooke. Then the best-looking, richest man in the group would try to seduce me.

They'd find out if I was a “natural-born slut,” just like the woman in that story.

If I found out about Ethan's supposed affair and went to catch him instead of taking the bait, they'd produce proof that he and Brooke were innocent and humiliate me for being suspicious. Jealous. Small-minded. Too petty to be taken seriously.

If I did take the bait and decided to get revenge by cheating, I was a whore who didn't deserve Ethan anyway. They'd turn the evidence into a slideshow, post it online, and ruin my life.