Chats That Ruined My Wedding

There are seven days left until my wedding with Estelle Cooper. Yolanda Jones took the high-speed train from the neighboring province, carrying two large suitcases, and the moment she stepped in, she gave me a big hug. "Ella, I've finally arrived! For the next seven days, I'll be right by your side, making sure everything with the wedding preparations goes perfectly!" She smiled, her eyes shining with excitement. My heart felt warm—Yolanda has been my best friend since we were kids; we've shared all our secrets. Knowing she was here with me made me feel truly at ease. That evening, I was in the living room going over the wedding itinerary while Yolanda took a shower. The sound of running water echoed when suddenly, Yolanda's phone on the coffee table vibrated. The screen lit up, revealing a message preview. I didn't pay much attention at first, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught the sender's note — "Estelle." "Estelle" is my exclusive nickname for Estelle Cooper. Yolanda always called him "Estelle Cooper," so why would she suddenly change the note? Curiosity pushed me to take another look. The message was short, but it stabbed into my heart like a sharp knife: "Yolanda, have you finished washing up? I'm waiting for you at the hotel, the usual place." My hand froze instantly, and my heart started pounding wildly. No, it can't be—I must be seeing things. I forced myself to stay calm, but my fingers uncontrollably picked up Yolanda's mobile phone. Her mobile phone password is my birthday. We've always been like this, with no secrets between us. I opened the chat app; the account named "Estelle" had a black profile picture. As I scrolled through the messages, the explicit content flooded my vision instantly. "Today at Ella's place, I almost couldn't resist holding you." "She's still foolishly preparing for the wedding—pathetic." "In this photo, you're wearing the dress I gave you. You look stunning." Then came a photo of Yolanda in a red slip dress, with Estelle Cooper's bedroom clearly in the background. There were even more explicit messages about when and where they met up, and they were even planning how to "act" on the wedding day. My vision blurred, and the mobile phone slipped from my hand, hitting the carpet with a thud. The sound of running water in the bathroom stopped. I quickly picked up the phone, turned off the screen, and put it back in place, my fingers trembling uncontrollably. Yolanda, wrapped in a towel, came out and saw my pale face. Concerned, she asked, "Ella, what's wrong? Are you feeling okay?" "No... it's nothing. Just a bit tired, maybe." I forced a smile, avoiding her eyes. She didn't think much of it, glanced at the mobile phone, a smile playing at the corners of her lips—a smile I'd never seen before—and then casually slipped the phone into her pocket. "By the way, Ella, didn't Estelle Cooper contact you today?" She asked as if it were just casual. "He said there was overtime at the company and that he'd call me on video later." My voice trembled slightly.