As I ordered my pizza on that calm Saturday evening, I figured it would be just another ordinary night. With my fiancé, Ryan, away for work, the quiet in our apartment felt like a double-edged sword. I had no idea that a simple pizza delivery would lead me to uncover a betrayal I never saw coming.
My one-bedroom apartment felt like a warm and inviting refuge. The eclectic mix of furniture that Ryan and I had gathered over the years brought a cozy charm to the place, while the gentle glow of fairy lights draped around the living room filled the space with warmth. It felt like a place woven from memories—or at least, that’s what I believed.

Ryan and I had been in a relationship for almost four years. Our relationship had its flaws, but it felt steady. Cozy. We shared our routines, our little inside jokes, and dreams for a future that felt so secure. With our wedding just a few months around the corner, I was completely immersed in bridal preparations—going over guest lists, perfecting the menu, and envisioning a day that would unite our lives forever.
That evening, I chose to enjoy a little something special while Ryan was out. Pizza has always been our favorite comfort food, and there was a little pizzeria just down the street that knew us like family. “I’d like a double pepperoni with extra cheese, please,” I said as I placed my order. We had been ordering the same thing ever since we started living together.

Approximately half an hour later, the doorbell chimed. As I swung the door open, there stood Alex, the familiar delivery guy I always see. For years, Alex has been the one bringing our pizzas to our doorstep. In his mid-30s, he had a friendly demeanor, though he wasn’t one to engage in excessive conversation. A cap was always pulled low over his eyes, adding a touch of mystery to his appearance.
Good evening, Emma,” he said, as he passed her the box. He usually had a cheerful demeanor, but today it felt subdued, and there was an odd tension hanging in the air.

“Hey there, Alex.” Is everything alright? I inquired, observing the subtle furrow in his forehead.

Um, sure,” he said hastily, not looking directly at her. “Just… please be careful, okay?”

Before I had a chance to say anything, he turned and hurried back to his car. His strange behavior made me feel uneasy, but I brushed it aside and took the warm box to the kitchen. I was absolutely famished and eager to indulge in my cheesy comfort food.

I opened the box, anticipating the mouthwatering scent of pepperoni, but what I discovered inside took me by surprise. In bold letters on the inside of the lid, it read: “Check your security camera footage.”

My heart raced for a moment. What was that? How about a little humor? Is this a joke? I looked at the message, attempting to understand what it meant. What could have prompted Alex to write such a mysterious note? What could possibly be on that security camera footage that I don’t already know?

A year ago, we decided to install a doorbell camera after experiencing a package theft in the building. Ryan kept pushing for it, saying it was for our own good. Since that time, I hadn’t given it much thought, but now I found it impossible to overlook the uneasy heaviness of Alex’s message.
I set the pizza down and picked up my phone, opening the app for our doorbell camera. My fingers shook slightly as I went through the footage. Initially, everything seemed perfectly normal—just the usual deliveries and neighbors going about their day. But then I noticed it.

Two nights ago, as I was burning the midnight oil, the camera caught Ryan opening the door to a woman I didn’t know. She stood tall, her dark hair framing a confident smile that lit up her face. She passed him a bottle of wine, and they shared a quick hug before entering the house.

My stomach twisted in knots. Who was she, really? Why had Ryan never brought her up? I kept scrolling, feeling my chest tighten with every clip I watched. There was something else. A week earlier, another woman showed up—this time with takeout in hand. Ryan welcomed her with a comfortable ease, guiding her in without a moment’s pause. The footage revealed a life I didn’t know, showcasing a side of Ryan that seemed unfamiliar. My thoughts were in a whirlwind, trying to make sense of the man I believed I knew and the one who was now staring back at me from the screen. This just can’t be happening. Is it possible?

When I finally wrapped up watching the clips, my hands were trembling. The heat from the pizza box had vanished, leaving behind a chilling, heavy sensation in my chest. My fiancé—the man I was meant to marry—had been deceiving me all along, right in front of my eyes. And the camera, the one he had been so adamant about installing, had recorded everything.
I wandered around the apartment for the rest of the night, going over memories and conversations in my mind, looking for any clues I might have overlooked. How long has this been happening? Why didn’t I notice it earlier? My trust in Ryan, which was the very foundation of our relationship, now felt like sand slipping through my fingers. The following morning, Ryan came back from his trip, his familiar confident smile lighting up his face. “Hey, babe,” he said, setting his bag down by the door. “Did you miss me?”

I stayed silent, my jaw tight as I raised my phone. The still image of him alongside one of the women dominated the screen. “Explain this,” I said, my voice calm and unwavering.

Ryan’s face changed, his confusion turning into worry. “Emma, where did you find that?” The door camera,” I said, my fingers tightening around the phone. “Could you tell me why you’ve been bringing other women into our home when I’m not around?” He paused, his typical charisma slipping away. “They’re just friends,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s not quite the case.”

“Are we friends?” I lost it. “Do all your friends show up with wine and takeout for their private hangouts when I’m not there?”

Ryan let out a deep sigh, his fingers raking through his hair. “Emma, you’re being a bit dramatic.” Nothing occurred. I swear.”