My fiancé called off our engagement and gave me no real reason. A few days later, I heard a knock at the door. I was sure it was him, coming to apologize.
But when I opened the door, a police officer stood there instead. He was holding a large manila envelope with my name written across the front in black marker. He asked if I was Salma Nouri.
I nodded, confused and already sweating. My heart thudded against my ribs. The officer handed me the envelope and said, “This was left anonymously at the station.
It’s… unusual. We thought you should have it.”
I stood there with the envelope in my hands, barely remembering to thank him. I watched him walk down the hallway of my apartment complex, then slowly shut the door behind me.
I sat on the couch, turned the envelope over twice, then finally peeled it open. Inside were ten photographs, a copy of a lease, and a flash drive. The photos hit first—my fiancé, Idris, arm-in-arm with another woman.
In some, they were holding hands at a beach I didn’t recognize. In others, they were hugging outside a modest suburban house. The lease was for that very house.
He’d signed it with the woman. Her name was Nerissa Salgado. I dropped everything on the coffee table and sat back, stunned.
My phone was already in my hand before I even thought about it, fingers shaking, ready to dial Idris. But then I stopped. What was I going to say?
What could he possibly say? I didn’t call him. I didn’t even cry.
I just sat there in a silent, shaking fog. The next morning, I plugged in the flash drive. There were three video files.
The first was shaky, recorded from what looked like a car parked across the street. Idris and Nerissa came out of the house holding grocery bags. They kissed at the door.
The second video was them arguing. Loud. Nerissa screamed something about “not being second choice.” Idris said, “You think I’m gonna throw away what she has?” I rewound that part five times.
She. Me? The third video broke me.
It was a screen recording of a voice message. Idris was talking to a friend—or maybe Nerissa. His voice was low and cold.
“I just needed the ring to keep Salma happy while I got the business loan. Once that clears, I’m gone. She’s not gonna know what hit her.”
I leaned forward, bile rising in my throat.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
TAP → NEXT PAGE → 👇
