Austin never liked taking photos, and he certainly never wanted to take them with me. For my graduation, he claimed his internship kept him too busy to make it, sending me a poorly photoshopped AI-composite image instead. When we traveled together, he shrugged and said professional photos were always heavily edited anyway, so he generated another batch of AI portraits for us. Now that we were getting married, Austin wanted our wedding photos to be AI-generated, too. “Wedding shoots are a massive rip-off and a waste of time,” he’d said. “Besides, those AI templates look exactly like the stuff your friend shoots. You’re the only sucker willing to pay her rates.” “The shoot conflicts with my business trip anyway, Fi. Why don’t we use that money to buy you a stunning dress instead?” Looking into Austin’s earnest eyes, I quietly closed the portfolio my best friend had sent over. Once Austin left for his trip, the entire burden of wedding planning fell squarely on my shoulders. I’d just pulled an all-nighter finalizing the wedding favors when Paige posted a new gallery on her Instagram grid. Another repeat client! This handsome guy went all out to book a custom birthday shoot for his favorite girl~ Slightly envious, I tapped on the photos. Only to find Austin’s familiar face smiling back at me next to a strange girl. 1 Thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me from sleep deprivation, I closed the app and opened it again. Paige’s geotag was set to the exact coastal town where Austin was supposed to be on his business trip. No matter how much I zoomed in or out, the man in the photo was undeniably Austin. The only difference was his bare left hand. No wedding band. When Austin proposed, he swore that once the ring was on, it would never come off. Once, I took mine off briefly before a shower, terrified of losing it in the drain, and he gave me the silent treatment for half a day. It took hours of coaxing to get back into his good graces. Yet here he was, the first to slip it off. The man who claimed to despise cameras had spent hours posing for beautiful, intimate photos with another girl. I pulled up Austin’s chat, typing out one last question. Can we please do a real wedding shoot when you get back? It was three in the morning, but he replied almost instantly. Fi, I thought we agreed on the AI pictures? You know how much I hate all that fuss and posing. Real shoots are exhausting. Let’s not get into this now, babe. Let your man get some sleep, okay? Always the same excuse. Too exhausting. Too tired. Was it not exhausting to pose for a glittering, fairy-tale birthday shoot with that other girl? Paige had told me about those shoots before. To get that perfect shot of glitter suspended in mid-air, you needed someone throwing handfuls of it over and over again. Those sessions took at least two grueling hours. In the photos, Austin’s hair and clothes were dusted with sparkles. He must have thrown them dozens of times. He didn’t mind the hassle for her, but a wedding shoot for us was too much to ask. My fingers trembled so badly it took me several tries just to close his chat. I screenshotted the gallery and sent it straight to Paige. Why didn’t you tell me? She, too, replied instantly. So you saw. Honestly, whatever. If anyone should feel guilty here, it’s you. My fiancé had slipped away on the eve of our wedding to play boyfriend to another woman. My best friend had actively covered for them and taken the damn photos. Why on earth should I feel guilty? Before I could even type a response, another text popped up from Paige. Fiona, you always claimed Austin hated photos. You never supported my business, and you wouldn’t even book me for your wedding photos. But guess what? Austin loved my work. He praised me and has hired me several times now. You were never a real friend to me. Several times? I followed Paige’s work religiously. If that girl had been in her portfolio before, I would have noticed. The only explanation was that Paige had blocked me from seeing those specific posts. Paige and I had grown up together. We were supposed to be sisters. When she said she wanted a professional camera, I worked two exhausting summer jobs just to buy her one. When she couldn’t find a job after graduation, I was the one who pushed her to turn her hobby into a career. Her first, second, and third clients were all people I begged to hire her. Outside of my parents, she was the person I loved most in this world. Yet, she accused me of being a fake friend just because I didn’t hire her for my own wedding. And for a quick paycheck, she had willingly helped Austin betray me. Paige, how much did Austin pay you for this shoot? Her reply came a second later. Eight hundred bucks. Plus travel and hotel. Eight hundred dollars. Not even the cost of the first camera I bought her. Austin had balked at the five-hundred-dollar wedding package I wanted, calling it a waste. But eight hundred for a birthday shoot was totally fine. Look, Fi, don’t say I never did anything for you. I’ll give you the truth. Austin isn’t on a business trip. He took Mona away for her birthday. It’s a romantic getaway. Whether you still want to marry him is up to you. Attached was a photo. 2 When the image loaded, my fingertips went numb, and my heart dropped into a cold, hollow abyss. In the photo, Austin, a man who was usually an absolute neat freak, was sitting on a dirty curb, happily eating street food with Mona. No wonder he had replied instantly at three in the morning. He wasn’t asleep; he was out on the town with her. During his week-long trip, I had tried to text him about the wedding details. Every single time, he brushed me off, saying he was too busy and telling me to stop suffocating him. I had offered to fly out to help him shoulder some of his workload. He’d claimed he didn’t want me to exhaust myself, and that the extra travel expenses would be a waste of money. Too busy? Too expensive? He was just terrified I’d crash his romantic little bubble with Mona. The business trip was a lie. His hatred of photos was a lie. His love for me was a lie. I curled into a ball on the cold floor and wept until my chest ached. I must have cried myself to sleep because I was startled awake by my phone buzzing at ten the next morning. It was the confectioner, asking if I approved of the custom wedding favors. I grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, pressed it against my swollen eyes, and texted back: Please cancel the order. The wedding is off. I sent the same short, cold message to the bridal boutique and the wedding planner. Then, I texted Paige to ask about the other shoots Austin had booked with her. She refused to answer, claiming it was “Austin’s private business.” But she did send me a cheeky cash-request meme. A lifetime of friendship, reduced to a cheap transaction. I let out a hollow, bitter laugh and locked my screen. By the time I got home from work, Austin was already there. He looked up, a faint scowl on his face. “Fi, I asked you to pick me up from the airport. Why weren’t you there?” I checked my phone. He had sent over a dozen texts while I was working. He wanted a ride, and he’d demanded I stop by a specific tea shop to get him a highly customized strawberry milk tea with boba, herbal jelly, and vanilla ice cream, no ice. Austin hated sweet drinks. “Austin,” I said quietly, “can you order a boba for me?” He looked confused but opened his phone anyway. After scrolling in frustration for a minute, he shoved the device into my hand. “Just choose what you want and order it yourself.” I shook my head, handing it back. “Never mind. I lost my appetite.” “Fiona, what is your—” Austin started to snap, but he froze when he saw my eyes, swollen like bruised plums. “What happened to your eyes?” He grabbed an ice pack from the fridge and pressed it to my face, sighing. “Did you stay up all night stressing over the wedding again? Fi, a wedding is just a formality. You don’t need to drive yourself crazy over it.” Looking directly into his lying eyes, I couldn’t help but ask, “Then why are birthdays so important? More important than me?” Austin had pursued me for two whole years before we started dating. I truly believed he loved me. So when he said he hated photos and wanted AI portraits, when he brushed me off time and time again, I kept telling myself it was just his personality. That he was just pragmatic. It was all a lie. I couldn’t help but wonder if those two years of chasing me had been about love at all, or just the thrill of the hunt. A soft weight brushed against my hands. Austin was handing me something. His expression turned pleading, trying to placate me. “What birthday? Fi, what are you talking about? Of course you’re my priority. Look, I even brought you a gift.” I had already seen this “gift” on Paige’s Instagram. It was a cheap, scratchy airline blanket given to first-class passengers. Every traveler got one for free. Outside, the afternoon sun was blindingly bright, and the AC hummed in the background, blowing a chilly breeze through the room. I managed a faint, empty smile and tossed the blanket onto the sofa. 3 Austin opened his mouth to complain, but his phone chirped with a custom, high-pitched ringtone. I glanced at the screen. The contact name read: Lil followed by a cute kitten emoji. Austin had always hated clutter on his phone. He had refused to even pin my chat to the top of his messages. Yet for Mona, he had custom nicknames and unique ringtones. I pulled my gaze away and began dragging my suitcase out of the closet. Austin watched me, his brow furrowing. “Fi, what are you doing with the suitcase?” “Just tossing out trash.” He stepped over, grabbing my wrist gently. “Do that later. Didn’t you say we were short on bridesmaids? I found someone to fill in. We’re meeting her for dinner tonight.” He let go of my wrist, immediately tapping a reply on his phone as he walked out of the room. Staring at his retreating back, I let out a bitter, self-deprecating chuckle. I had actually been naive enough to think he might notice something was wrong. Instead, his entire world revolved around Mona. I already had a sickening feeling that the bridesmaid would be Mona. But when I actually saw her sitting at the restaurant table, my chest tightened as if stuffed with heavy, suffocating cotton. “You must be Fiona! You and Austin make such a gorgeous couple,” Mona said, rising with a sweet, bubbly smile. “I’m Mona, his intern.” She stepped closer to shake my hand, but as she reached out, she awkwardly stumbled, tilting her glass and splashing ice-cold soda straight toward my shirt. With quick reflexes, I grabbed her wrist mid-air, twisting it so the sticky liquid splashed right back onto her own white top. “Fiona! What the hell are you doing to Mona?!” Austin’s angry shout echoed at the exact same moment as Paige’s gasp. Only then did I realize Paige was sitting there too. She had kept me in the dark yet again. Both of them rushed forward, flanking Mona and frantically dabbing at her wet clothes with napkins. I used to be the one they treated with such care. Now, they stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her, glaring at me like I was a monster. Looking at these two strangers who used to mean the world to me, I turned to leave. Before I could take a step, a freezing rush of water hit me from behind, soaking my back. “You don’t get to act like a bitch and just walk away, Fiona!” Paige snapped, tossing her empty glass onto the table. “Mona was sweet enough to save your wedding by stepping in as a bridesmaid. And this is how you treat her? Honestly, I’m reconsidering whether I even want to attend your wedding.” I looked at Austin. He remained silent, his cold stare making his agreement painfully clear. In the beginning, I had told him a small wedding party was fine, just one bridesmaid and one groomsman. He didn’t have many close friends, and his groomsman was just a casual coworker anyway. There was no need to force a large party. But he had insisted on adding more people. Now I knew why: he wanted an excuse to include Mona. I wiped the cold water from the back of my neck. My voice was eerily calm. “Then don’t come,” I said. “And Austin, don’t bother showing up either. Everything is AI-generated anyway. The wedding is canceled.” Austin glanced at my bare hand, a look of condescending realization washing over his face. “Are you seriously still throwing a tantrum over the photos?” “AI wedding portraits are completely normal nowadays. You’re calling off our marriage over something so trivial?” He pulled out his phone, pulling up the AI photos and video templates he’d generated, boasting about how perfect they looked. They were pretty, sure. But the smiles were empty, the bodies weren’t ours, and the backgrounds were entirely fake. I didn’t care about flawless pictures. I wanted memories. I wanted to look at a photo decades later and remember the joy of that exact moment. I didn’t want to stare at a pixel-perfect stranger’s face and feel absolutely nothing. Austin swiped too quickly, accidentally bringing up the source file for one of the video clips. It was a video of him and Mona, laughing and holding hands. It wasn’t some random AI-generated template. He had taken a real video with her and simply swapped my face onto her body. Before I could process the sheer disgust rising in my throat, my phone rang. It was my sister. “Fi, it’s Mom! The hospital just called. She was in a car accident. Her leg is broken.” Hearing this, Austin instinctively grabbed his car keys, but Mona snatched them from his hand first. 4 “Austin, please… you know how hard it is to get a cab to my neighborhood at this hour…” Mona looked up with big, watery eyes, slowly holding the keys back out to him with a pout. Austin hesitated for a long, agonizing beat before pulling out his phone. “Fi, I’ll order an Uber for you. It’s the same thing. I’ll drive over and pick you up from the hospital later.” I looked at the ride-share notification on my phone, turned around, and walked out without looking back. “Don’t bother. I got my own.” When I rushed into the ER, the receptionist told me they needed my mother’s ID. Because it was an emergency, a photo or photocopy would suffice for now, and we could bring the physical card later. My sister was stuck out of town, and I was alone, unable to leave my mother’s bedside. Out of habit, I dialed Paige’s number. “I can’t right now, Fi. I’m shopping with Mona. She’s buying me a designer dress,” Paige said, hanging up before I could even explain the emergency. Swallowing my pride, I called Austin. He agreed to help and said he’d go to our apartment to grab it. Barely ten minutes later, a photo of my mother’s ID popped up in my texts. Relieved, I quickly showed the screen to the admitting nurse. The nurse took one look at the screen and handed the phone back with a frown. “Ma’am, this is a medical emergency. Please don’t try to pass off a poorly generated AI image to hospital staff.” My brain went entirely numb. An AI image? I looked closely at the photo. Sure enough, the tiny AI-generator watermark was clearly visible in the bottom corner. I dialed his number, screaming through my tears, “Austin! My mother is in the hospital, and you sent me a fake, AI-generated photo of her ID?!” But it wasn’t Austin who answered. It was Mona’s soft, mocking voice. “Oh, Fiona? Are you looking for Austin? He’s in the middle of winning me a giant plushie at the arcade. Can you call back later?” The call went dead. Only Paige and Austin had spare keys to my apartment. Grim-faced, I booked an emergency locksmith service on an app and sent them straight to my place. I finally breathed a sigh of relief when the doctor emerged to tell me my mother’s surgery was a success. But the moment I wheeled her into the recovery room, my phone rang. It was the police. Austin had returned to the apartment, caught the locksmith, and had him arrested for burglary. I rushed to the local precinct, showing the officers my booking history and digital receipt. After apologizing profusely to the traumatized locksmith, I turned to Austin, my energy entirely drained. “He showed you the booking receipt! Why did you call the police on him?!” Austin shrugged, completely unbothered. “With AI these days, anyone can fake a screenshot.” “Besides, if you hadn’t hired a stranger to break in, Mona wouldn’t have been terrified. You owe her an apology.” He unlocked his car. Mona was sitting in the passenger seat, her eyes red and teary. “Austin, it’s okay. Fiona was just panicked about her mom. I don’t blame her,” Mona said softly, tugging at his sleeve. But my eyes locked onto the gold filigree bracelet on her wrist. It was the exact heirloom bracelet my mother had kept in her jewelry box, my wedding gift. “Austin, did you bring her into my apartment?” Austin waved his hand dismissively. “It was late, and our place was closer and safer for her. How was I supposed to know you’d send a criminal to scare her?” Knowing without a doubt that the bracelet belonged to me, I lunged forward, reaching for her wrist. Before my fingers could touch her, Austin shoved me hard, sending me crashing onto the asphalt. He stood over me, shielding her. “Fiona, what the hell is wrong with you?!” I pushed myself up, ignoring the burning scrape on my palm. “What’s wrong with me? My mother was waiting for surgery while you sent an AI scam, and now you’ve given my mother’s heirloom to this girl!” Austin looked at the bracelet on Mona’s wrist, a flash of guilt crossing his face. “Fi, the AI image had all her correct info. The ER nurses shouldn’t have been so uptight about it.” “And Mona just thought the bracelet was pretty and wanted to try it on. She was going to give it back.” I didn’t argue. I simply held out my hand, glaring at Mona. “Fiona…” “Give it back. Now.” Perhaps shaken by the ice in my voice, Austin pulled the bracelet off Mona’s wrist and handed it to me. I placed the gold bracelet safely in my pocket. Austin spoke up again. “Tomorrow I have to take Mona to a therapy appointment. I won’t be able to make it to your dress fitting.” Without looking at him, I replied, “Do whatever you want.” He blinked in surprise. “Seriously? You’re fine with that?” Before I could change my mind, he quickly climbed into the car and drove off, leaving me alone in the dark. As the car pulled away, I heard Mona’s faint voice drift through the open window: Aren’t you worried she’ll actually call off the wedding? Austin let out a smug chuckle. “She’s just throwing a fit. She’d never leave me. Look, she’s still wearing my ring.” I looked down at my left hand. I had worn the ring so long it felt like a part of my skin. I had forgotten it was even there. The next morning, while my mother was resting, I went back to the apartment and packed every single thing I owned into suitcases. With one final look at the apartment we had shared for three years, I slipped the diamond ring off my finger and left it on the coffee table. Across town, Austin was sitting in the waiting room of the clinic with Mona when his phone rang. It was his mother. “Austin! Why did Fiona just return the entire dowry and all the wedding gifts?!”
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