Vows Broken In Velvet Chapter 2

I pulled up the post on my phone and slid it across the marble table to Eleanor. She squinted at it, confused.

"This is Piper’s burner account," I said.

Piper was Grant’s assistant. She was also the girl he’d been hiding for the better part of a year. I had spent months fighting with Grant about her, only for him to hide her deeper, protect her more fiercely. I had reached a point where I didn't even want to know her name.

Then, the algorithm, in its infinite cruelty, pushed her post into my feed.

What’s the most expensive hotel you’ve ever stayed in? Show me yours!

The user, posting under a generic handle, had answered her own prompt with a photo of a lavish bedroom.

Is this what a $30,000 suite feels like? she’d written. My boyfriend really wanted me to see how the other half lives!

The comments were a mix of envy and awe, people marveling at the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Gold Coast. I wouldn't have known it was her if it hadn't been for the last photo in the carousel.

It was a picture of a man’s wrist, partially obscured. Wrapped around his hand was a necktie.

Deep navy silk with a subtle jacquard weave.

I had bought that tie for Grant for our anniversary three years ago. It cost maybe thirty dollars at a department store sale. It was wildly beneath his current status, but at the time, Grant had kissed me and said, "If it’s from you, it’s the only thing I want to wear."

He wore it constantly back then. But as the gifts from "others" started piling up, the tie vanished from his rotation.

Seeing it used as a prop in a mistress’s bedroom didn't make me cry. It didn't even make me angry. It just felt like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place.

Eleanor still didn't see the big deal. To her, it was just a young girl bragging on the internet about a luxury she didn't earn. She gave me a patronizing smile.

"It’s just a hotel, honey. You’ve stayed at the Ritz in Paris. You’ve had the penthouse in Dubai. Why let this bother you?"

She was right. Ever since I’d stopped caring about Grant’s heart, I’d started bleeding his bank account dry. I had gone from the girl who grew up in hand-me-downs to the woman who didn't blink at a five-figure invoice.

The world thought I’d finally grown up. Grant thought I’d finally surrendered.