A Boy in the Video Called My Late Fiance Dad, Standing Before My Bestie’s Wedding Photo Chapter 02
I went completely still.
Hazel Whitlock.
My name.
My fingers dug into my palm as I struggled to keep my voice steady.
“Why do you ask? Was she someone important?”
The boy looked down at the toy in his hands.
His voice grew quieter.
“She was one of my parents’ closest friends.”
Then he added,
“But she died seven years ago.”
My entire body stiffened.
“Died?”
The word barely escaped my lips.
The boy nodded.
“Mom and Dad tell me stories about her all the time. Every year they visit her grave.”
His expression turned sad.
“Sometimes they cry there. They always say they’re sorry. They say they regret what happened to her.”
The room seemed to spin around me.
Seven years ago.
That would be 2026.
This year.
Julian faked his death.
Vivian betrayed me.
And then somehow…
I died?
My hands trembled uncontrollably.
I clenched my teeth and forced out the question.
“How did she die?”
The boy shook his head.
“Dad doesn’t want me asking about it.”
Then he looked up.
“Did you know her?”
I avoided the question.
Instead, I asked, “Were your parents happy together?”
The boy immediately brightened.
“Oh, absolutely!”
A huge smile spread across his face.
“My dad is crazy about my mom.”
Then he started listing examples.
“When Mom was pregnant with me, she woke up at midnight craving pizza from this restaurant all the way across Silverport. Dad drove across half the city to get it for her. He even brought it back in a heated carrier so it stayed warm.”
My chest tightened.
The boy continued.
“Mom hates rainy days. So Dad built her this giant glass conservatory in our backyard. Whenever it rains, she sits inside surrounded by flowers and never gets wet.”
Another stab of pain.
“And one time Mom accidentally broke an old wooden clothespin.”
He laughed.
“It sounds silly, but she cried for hours. Dad tracked down one of the best restoration experts in the country. It took months to repair. Now it’s locked inside our safe.”
Every word felt like another knife twisting deeper.
I couldn’t stop comparing it to my own relationship with Julian.
The night I’d run a high fever, I’d called him, terrified.
He told me he was busy with a project.
Told me to drink water and take medicine.
Later, I discovered Vivian had gotten drunk at a bar that night.
Julian had gone to pick her up.
I’d always dreamed of owning a house with a yard.
Julian called it a waste of money.
Said it wasn’t practical.
Yet he’d built Vivian a glass conservatory.
As for that clothespin…
I’d seen it before.
It was a cheap trinket Vivian had bought in high school.
Meanwhile, I’d spent weeks searching for a meaningful gift for Julian.
A blessed cross necklace from a respected priest.
A symbol of protection and good fortune.
Julian had tossed it into a drawer.
Eventually he’d thrown it in the trash.
“I don’t believe in that stuff,” he’d said.
“And honestly, it looks cheap.”
The phone shifted again.
The wedding portrait entered the frame.
I stared at Julian and Vivian’s smiling faces.
And suddenly another memory surfaced.
Sophomore year of college.
The day I’d introduced my new boyfriend to my best friend.
The three of us had sat together in the campus dining hall.
I was so excited.
So happy.
I hadn’t noticed the tension between them.
Vivian had accidentally spilled water on Julian’s white shirt.
Julian was notoriously obsessive about cleanliness.
Normally, if someone so much as brushed against him, he’d change clothes immediately.
But that day?
He hadn’t gotten angry.
Not even a little.
Instead, he’d calmly grabbed a napkin and wiped the table in front of Vivian first.
At the time, I’d thought he was being kind because she was my best friend.
Now the memory looked completely different.
The signs had been there all along.
I just hadn’t wanted to see them.
The boy suddenly pushed the phone closer to the camera.
“Look!”
He grinned proudly.
“My parents even have a couple account. It’s full of videos they made together.”
The screen zoomed in.
I saw the username clearly.
[@MyDearVivian]
My heart pounded.
I grabbed my backup phone.
With shaking fingers, I typed the username into the search bar.
A profile appeared instantly.
It was real.
