1 A week before our wedding, I stood in the lobby of the Grand Regency Hotel and watched my fiancée, Vivian, passionately kissing my childhood best friend, Marcus. She was supposed to be out of town on a business trip. They held each other in the center of the lobby, completely lost in their own world. Only an hour earlier, my phone had buzzed with a video call from an unknown number. When I answered, the screen showed a young boy, maybe six or seven years old. His face was stained with tears, his voice raw as he begged me to save his father. But the moment he saw my face, he froze, staring at me in stunned silence. After a few seconds, he whispered, “Daddy? You’re my daddy from seven years ago, aren’t you?” I frowned, shaking my head. The boy certainly had my eyes, but the idea of time travel was too absurd to believe. Then he turned the camera toward a dark corner of the room. I saw myself seven years in the future. My future self was a wreck. His hair was matted, his eyes dull and hollow. He huddled in the corner, clutching his knees, looking as if he lacked the strength to even lift his head. Scabs and jagged scars covered his arms and legs. When he looked up and saw me, there was no surprise in his eyes. He only managed to wheeze out a few words. “Logan, don’t marry Vivian. She will destroy your life.” The screen panned back to the boy, who was holding a faded, leather-bound journal. He began reading the entries aloud, his voice trembling. “May 21st, 2017. Vivian lied about her business trip. She went to the Regency Hotel to hook up with Marcus.” My heart stopped. Today was May 21st. Vivian was my fiancée, the woman I was supposed to marry next week. Marcus was my closest friend, a brother I had known for over twenty years. “Daddy, go to the hotel and see for yourself,” the boy sobbed. “Mom was already betraying you back then. She has been with Uncle Marcus all along.” My mind went completely blank. Driven by a morbid, desperate urge, I hailed a cab and rushed to the hotel. The moment I stepped through the grand glass doors, I ran straight into the nightmare. The scene unfolding before my eyes matched the boy’s description perfectly. A heavy ringing filled my ears, and my body went entirely numb, frozen in place as if struck by lightning. Just as Vivian started to turn her head, I instinctively ducked behind one of the large ornamental planters near the entrance. “What’s wrong?” I heard Marcus ask her, his voice dripping with familiarity. “Why the sudden look back?” “I thought I saw Logan just now,” Vivian murmured. “No way. That idiot would never find this place,” Marcus scoffed, letting out a low chuckle. “We’ve been doing this for almost two months and he hasn’t suspected a thing. Don’t ruin the mood.” Vivian pulled him back by his collar and kissed him hard. “Let’s go upstairs. I can’t wait.” “Calm down,” Marcus teased. “You’re marrying him next week.” “I’ll leave the back door unlocked for you on our wedding night,” she whispered back. “We can talk about it then.” Their raw, shameless words felt like poisoned needles piercing my chest. I clenched my fists so hard my nails bit into my palms, trying to anchor myself to reality. They walked into the elevator, their arms wrapped tightly around each other’s waists. I leaned heavily against the cold wall, my fingers icy, my phone burning against my palm. I could not comprehend it. How could they do this to me? When Vivian proposed to me at the edge of the volcanic crater in Hawaii, she looked me in the eyes and swore I was the only man she would ever love. And Marcus? We had been inseparable since grade school. He had once gotten into a fight to protect me, landing himself in a holding cell. He had even lost a job once because he stood up for me. How could he crawl into bed with my fiancée? I desperately wanted it to be a nightmare. On my phone screen, my future self let out a bitter, hollow laugh. His eyes were filled with an absolute, bottomless despair. “They’ve been lying to you for years, Logan,” he said, his voice raspy. “By the time you discover the truth on your own, you’ll end up just like me, a ghost of a man. Run while you still can. Cancel the wedding. Don’t let her drag you to hell.” I grit my teeth, my throat tightening as I fought back the tears. I remembered the nights Vivian and I lay on the hood of my car, watching the stars and planning our future. We had already picked out names for our future children: Lily for a girl, Tyler for a boy. The little boy on the screen was Tyler. He reached out, his tiny fingers pressing against the glass of the screen as tears streamed down his cheeks. “Younger Daddy, you have to leave her. I don’t want to watch you take handfuls of pills every day anymore. I don’t want to see you crying in the dark. It’s okay if I’m never born. I just want you to be safe.” A crushing weight settled on my chest, making it hard to draw breath. “I promise,” I whispered to the screen. “I won’t marry her.” After hanging up, I stood outside the hotel doors as the sun went down and a torrential downpour began to flood the streets. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was Vivian. I answered, my voice thick and raw. “Hey, babe,” she said, her voice sweet and entirely normal. “I see it’s pouring over there. Make sure to grab an umbrella when you leave the office. Don’t get wet. My business trip is going to take another couple of days. I just wired you fifty-two hundred dollars. Buy yourself something nice. Love you.” A second later, a notification popped up on my screen, confirming the bank transfer. “Vivian,” I asked, keeping my voice as flat as possible. “Are you really on a business trip?” There was not a single tremor of guilt in her voice. “Of course. I’m just having dinner with the regional managers right now. I have to go, babe. Love you.” She hung up. Almost immediately, Marcus sent me a dozen silly memes, followed by a wire transfer of thirteen hundred and fourteen dollars. His message read: Bro, consider me your second husband. Take the cash and buy yourself some drinks. I stood in the freezing rain, the cold seeping deep into my bones, far sharper and more terrifying than the storm around me. 2 When I got back to the apartment, the first things I saw in the living room were two garment racks. One held Vivian’s white mermaid-style wedding dress. The other held my custom-made dark suit. Standing side by side, they looked suffocatingly perfect. In the past, looking at them would fill my heart with warmth, making me believe in a lifetime of quiet happiness. Now, they were nothing but a mockery. I marched over to the hallway closet to grab a pair of shears. In my haste, my knee slammed against the sharp edge of the console table, scraping the skin until it bled, but I barely felt the sting. Clutching the heavy metal shears, I stormed back into the living room. I grabbed the sleeve of my suit, but my hand froze. The sheer weight of seven years of memories crashed over me, and my tears began to splash against the dark fabric. My mind screamed at me to shred everything to pieces, but a seven-year relationship cannot be severed with a simple click of a blade. On the media console sat a framed Polaroid of Marcus and me, taken on our college graduation day. Through three moves, I had always kept it with me. In the photo, we had our arms slung over each other’s shoulders, laughing like we ruled the world. Now, it was just a sick joke. How could the two people I trusted most in the world conspire to humiliate me like this? I could not swallow this poison quietly. Like a madman, I spammed Vivian and Marcus with calls and texts, but neither of them replied. It felt as if the entire world had gone silent, leaving me alone in my quiet fury while they lay wrapped in each other’s arms, laughing at how gullible I was. I sat on the hardwood floor, clutching the suit, and stared into the dark until dawn. The next morning, my head felt heavy and congested when I heard the front door click open. Vivian walked in and wrapped her arms around me from behind. The sharp scent of her designer perfume immediately made my stomach churn. I used to think she was just fastidious about smelling nice. Now, I realized the truth: she was using it to mask the scent of Marcus’s cologne. She rested her chin on my shoulder, her voice dripping with affection. “Missed me, handsome? You called so many times last night. I was so caught up with work that I couldn’t check my phone. I rushed back the second the meetings ended.” Her warm breath brushed against my neck, sending a wave of revulsion through my body. “Don’t touch me,” I barked, twisting out of her embrace. Vivian blinked, momentarily startled, but quickly forced a playful pout. “What’s wrong, babe? Are you mad at me? Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll write you a three-thousand-word apology essay, deal?” She looked so utterly innocent. If I hadn’t seen the truth with my own eyes, I would have fallen for it again. “Vivian,” I said, looking her dead in the eye. “I’m going to give you one chance. Is there anything you’re keeping from me?” Seven years. Even after her betrayal, I wanted to know if she had a single shred of honesty left in her. Vivian’s playful smile vanished. She looked at me with mock solemnity. “Well, yes. I actually changed the bridesmaid lineup. I was worried they’d look too pretty and steal my spotlight. You don’t mind, do you?” The final, fragile thread of my hope snapped into dust. Suddenly, her phone buzzed. She answered it quickly, her voice louder than usual. “Mr. Harris? An issue with the contract? I’ll be right over.” She hung up and turned to me, adjusting her bag. “Babe, there’s an emergency at the office. I have to run, but I’ll make it up to you tonight, okay?” Without waiting for my reply, she kissed her fingers, pressed them to my cheek, and hurried out the door. Almost simultaneously, my phone vibrated. It was a text from Marcus saying he was leaving the country. 3 Marcus’s message was incredibly detailed: Hey man, I met this amazing girl from the UK and I’m heading to London to chase her down. If I can’t make it back in time for the wedding, don’t hate me. I’ll send the biggest gift on your registry. You and Vivian are going from high school sweethearts to husband and wife, I’m so jealous. Wish you guys a lifetime of happiness. The pieces clicked together instantly. Vivian wasn’t heading to the office. She was rushing to stop Marcus from leaving the country. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. I let out a dry, self-deprecating laugh. I walked into the bedroom and began packing my bags. I was never coming back to this place. While I was folding my shirts, my phone screen lit up with another video call from Tyler. I swiped to answer immediately. On the screen, the little boy was sobbing hysterically, his hair damp with sweat. “Daddy, Mom came home today,” he cried. “But she brought a little girl with her. She said it’s Uncle Marcus’s daughter, but she’s Mom’s child too. She said we’re all going to live together now. You couldn’t take it, Daddy. You started coughing up blood. You’re in the hospital now, and I’m so scared.” My chest tightened so hard I could barely breathe. He turned the camera toward the hospital bed. There lay my future self. At only thirty-two years old, he looked like a man in his late fifties. His face was gaunt and hollowed out, an oxygen mask strapped over his nose as he clung to a thread of life. His lips parted slightly, trying to speak. Tyler quickly scrambled onto the bed and gently pulled the mask down. “Logan,” my future self whispered, his voice cracking like dry autumn leaves. “Seven years ago, you thought you were the luckiest man alive. You never suspected Vivian and Marcus were together before the wedding, did you? And you’ll never guess what happens next. In our second year of marriage, when Mom passed away in the ICU and you were crying yourself to sleep, Vivian was in the next wing giving birth to Marcus’s child. They had their own family all along. Now, they don’t even bother to hide it.” The air in my room felt thick, like poison. Each breath I took burned my lungs. “So,” I whispered, staring at my hollow reflection on the screen. “Is this how I end up? Dying before my thirty-fifth birthday?” He coughed violently, his chest rattling. “Once I found out the truth, I started swallowing sleeping pills and antidepressants by the handful. My mind went hazy. I took so many bad falls. I don’t have much time left. Vivian always claimed I was faking my sickness to get attention. She never cared. She spent every day with Marcus and their daughter.” The woman I had loved with every fiber of my being had turned out to be a monster. Suddenly, the heart monitor on the screen began to emit a shrill, continuous beep. I watched in horror as my future self began to seize. Tyler ran toward the door, screaming for the doctors, his voice breaking. “Daddy! Don’t leave me! What am I going to do without you?” The boy’s agonizing cries tore through my soul. Finally, my future self’s hand slipped from the bed, and his eyes closed forever. Tyler wept until he lost his voice, eventually collapsing into unconsciousness on the hospital floor. My hand trembled, and my phone slipped from my grasp, clattering onto the floorboards. I had just watched my own lonely death in a sterile hospital room, leaving behind a terrified child with no one to protect him. Then, a shadow fell across the screen. Someone walked into the camera frame. As I recognized the face, my fists clenched so hard my knuckles turned white. 4 It was Vivian. This was the first time I had seen her thirty-two-year-old self. She looked just as radiant and polished as she did now, showing none of the wear and tear of the years. She was thriving, a stark, sickening contrast to the broken man who had just died on the bed. Marcus stood right beside her, their fingers locked together. Looking at my lifeless body, Vivian’s eyes welled with a few superficial tears, a performance so shallow it made me sick. “Don’t worry, Logan,” she said softly, her voice light and unbothered. “Marcus and I will take good care of Tyler. You were always so tired. Maybe it’s better this way. You’re finally free.” The connection severed. But in the final second before the screen went black, I saw Marcus drape his arm around her shoulders, squeezing out a few fake tears while muttering about what an idiot I had been. I clutched my chest, my heart hammering against my ribs. I had to leave. I had to get as far away from these two monsters as possible. I would not allow myself to die in some lonely hospital bed, and I would not let a child of mine suffer that kind of torment. As I searched my desk for my passport, my fingers brushed against an old journal from my high school days. I opened it. The pages were covered in scribbles of Vivian’s name. She scored three three-pointers in the basketball game today. We both ranked in the top three on the AP science exams. She switched seats today and sat right next to me. I couldn’t stop smiling all day. Looking at those words, I thought of the journal Tyler had held, the one filled with Vivian’s betrayals. She left me when I had a hundred and three fever to go see Marcus. She screamed at me for hours because of Marcus, calling me insecure and jealous. Two journals, written by the same hand. One filled with the sweet, innocent hope of youth; the other poisoned by the toxic reality of a shattered life. I grabbed my suitcase and headed downstairs, only to run right into Vivian and Marcus as they walked through the front gate. The moment they saw me with my luggage, their faces instantly smoothed into their usual masks. Marcus clapped me on the shoulder, acting as if nothing was wrong. “Logan! Where are you off to with that heavy suitcase?” Vivian frowned, her eyes wide with hurt. “Babe, where are you going? Did I do something to make you mad?” Marcus playfully nudged Vivian with his knee, giving her a mock stern look. “Come on, tell me! How did you upset our Logan? Let me tell you, you guys are getting married next week. If you treat him badly, I’ll personally help him run away from the altar!” Marcus had always played this role, pretending to be annoyed with Vivian for “stealing” his best friend. I used to think he was just looking out for me, acting like a protective brother. Now, I saw it for what it was: a cheap theater act to keep me blind. Vivian grabbed my hand, her voice incredibly soft. “See, Logan? You have a whole support system here. You can’t run away. Is this just pre-wedding jitters? If you want to go visit your parents, I’ll come with you, okay?” I saw a flicker of panic in Marcus’s eyes before he masked it, grabbing the handle of my suitcase. “Hey, if you’re really feeling stressed, come crash at my place for a few days. We’ve crashed in the same bed before, my place is plenty big.” My fingers shook with a cold, violent rage as I watched them play their parts, treating me like a fool. I let out a soft laugh and looked at them. “Don’t worry. I made sure to prepare a special wedding surprise for both of you.” They both froze. I pulled out my phone, opened the massive group chat containing all our family, friends, and wedding guests, and uploaded the video I had taken at the hotel yesterday. Once the upload completed, I looked up and met their eyes. “Vivian, the wedding is off.” As their phones buzzed with notifications, their faces drained of color, and they stumbled back a step in sheer terror.
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