The Man She Called "Boring"

On the eve of my wedding, I was in the new house I' d bought for Jennifer, practicing my vows, believing my devotion would finally earn her love.

My phone buzzed. It was a Finsta notification, her secret Instagram.

Curiosity twisted my gut as I opened it.

There, a picture of her hand, my three-carat diamond sparkling, intertwined with her ex-boyfriend Tyrone' s tattooed hand on a rumpled motel bed.

The caption read: "One last taste of freedom before I'm locked down. #WildHeart."

My blood ran cold.

I called, but her voice was sharp, annoyed; then I heard his low laugh.