I watched my wife rehearse her plan to dump me in front of my biggest investors for Instagram content. She expected me to beg. Instead, I agreed and walked out. What happened next destroyed her influencer career and exposed secrets that made the manipulation look like child’s play. My name is Becket. I’m 41 years old. And until 3 months ago, I thought I had it all figured out. I own three fitness centers across the northern suburbs of Phoenix. built them from nothing over 12 years. Started with one small gym in Scottsdale. Poured every dollar and every hour into making it work. Now we got locations in Paradise Valley and Cave Creek, too. 23 employees, over 1,500 members, and enough revenue that money stopped being a worry years ago. I met Cadence 7 years back at a charity fundraiser. She was 24, working part-time at a marketing firm while building her lifestyle blog.

I was 34, finally seeing real success with my second location. She was beautiful, energetic, and seemed genuinely interested in what I was doing. We got married after 18 months.

My business partner, Fletcher Kane, warned me I was rushing things, but I didn’t listen. Our daughter, Ivy, came along 2 years into the marriage. She’s three now with Cadence’s dark hair and my gray eyes. That little girl is the best thing that ever happened to me.

When she wraps her tiny arms around my neck and says, “Love you, Daddy. Nothing else matters.” The problem started small. Cadence began spending more time with her friends, Jessica, Mia, and especially Amanda. This toxic woman she met at some influencer meetup last year.

Girls nights became girls weekends. I didn’t mind at first. I work 60-hour weeks between the three gyms and I wanted her to have her own life. But

then came the spending. My accountant flagged it during our quarterly review.

$47,000 in 6 months on clothes, salon visits, restaurants, and travel. When I asked Cadence about it, she got defensive. You’re never around anyway, she said. What am I supposed to do? Sit home alone? Besides, I need to maintain my image for my followers. Her followers. She’d gone from 20,000 to 95,000 Instagram followers in the past year. Posting this perfect suburban mom lifestyle content. Every moment had to be photographed, filtered, captioned.

Nothing was real anymore. It was all content. 3 weeks ago, I noticed her getting secretive with her phone. She turned the screen away when I walked by.

Smile at messages she wouldn’t share.

When I asked about it, she laughed it off. Just the girls planning something fun, she said. Then came last Friday morning. I had taken a day off to help set up for our big investor event that evening, a cocktail reception at the Paradise Valley location to celebrate our expansion. Cadence was supposed to come later with Ivy after dropping her at my parents house. I was in a storage room organizing chairs when I heard voices from the women’s locker room. The door was slightly open and I recognized Cadence’s laugh immediately. Something about the tone made me stop and listen.

Okay, so I’ll say something like, “This isn’t working anymore.” Cadence’s voice carried through the gap in the door. And then you guys position yourselves around the room. Make sure you can see his face when I do it. I froze. Chair still in my hands. Oh my god, this is going to be incredible content, came Jessica’s voice. Your followers are going to lose their minds. Are you sure about this?

That was Mia sounding uncertain. What if Becket just agrees with you? Cadence laughed. The sound sharp and confident.

Trust me, no guy lets his wife walk away in front of all his investors and business partners without making a scene. His ego won’t let him. Plus, he loves me way too much to just give up.

My grip tightened on the metal chairs. I still think you should wait until after the event, Mia said. This seems risky.

That’s exactly why it’ll work. Amanda’s voice cut in. That woman, I should have known she was behind this. You want maximum impact? All those people watching, his reputation on the line.

He’ll do anything to fix it. My sister tried this with her fiance last year. He promised her a trip to Bali and a new car before she forgave him. “See,” Cadence said excitedly. Beckett’s been so focused on his fourth gym that he barely notices me anymore. “When’s the last time he planned a romantic trip or surprise me with jewelry? He needs a reminder of what he could lose.” I felt something cold settle in my chest. This wasn’t about our relationship. This was about manipulation and material things.

What time should you do it? Jessica asked. Around 8, Cadence replied. After the presentations, but before dinner.

Everyone will be mingling, relaxed.

Perfect audience size. And make sure you’re recording. Jess, I want every angle for the Instagram reel. This is going to get you to 200,000 followers easy, Amanda said, testing my husband’s love in public. The algorithm loves this stuff. What if he gets angry instead of apologetic? Mia asked again. Even better, Amanda answered before Cadence could. Then she can play the victim.

Either way, she wins. He either begs and promises her everything or she gets sympathy from everyone for having an unsupportive husband. Cadence giggled. I love how you think, Amanda. This is going to be perfect. I heard movement, the sound of makeup being applied, heels clicking on tile. Remember, Amanda continued, “Stay calm and serious.” Use phrases like, “I don’t feel valued.” And, “I need more from this relationship. Keep it vague enough that he can’t defend himself with specifics.” “Got it,” Cadence said. Vague emotional complaints, public setting, “You guys backing me up, cameras ready. This is going to change everything.” They started moving toward the door. I quickly stepped back into the storage room, my mind racing. My wife of 5 years, the mother of my daughter, was planning to publicly humiliate me at the most important business event of my career. For Instagram content, for manipulation, for things, I set the chairs down carefully, my hands steady despite the anger building inside me. If Cadence wanted to test me in front of everyone, she was about to learn something important about the man she married. I wasn’t the type who begged. I spent the next hour finishing setup while my mind worked through every angle. Fletcher arrived around 2:00 and immediately noticed something was off.

“You look like you’re planning a war,” Fletcher said, setting down boxes of promotional materials. “My business partner’s been reading people for 25 years, and he doesn’t miss much.” “Something like that,” I replied, arranging the presentation boards.

Fletcher stopped working and looked at me directly. “What’s going on, Beck?” I told him everything. every word I’d overheard in that locker room. When I finished, Fletcher’s jaw was tight.

“That woman is worse than I thought,” Fletcher said. He’d never trusted Cadence completely. “Not since she’d made a comment about him being washed up and bitter at a company barbecue last year.” “What are you going to do?” “Give her exactly what she’s asking for?” I said calmly. A public response, “Just not the one she’s expecting.” Fletcher’s eyes narrowed. Then a slow smile spread across his face. You’re going to call her bluff. I’m going to respect her stated wishes. I corrected. She wants to end our marriage publicly. I’ll accept her decision like a mature adult. No begging, no drama, just agreement. She’s going to lose her mind, Fletcher said with satisfaction. Those friends of hers, too. That’s their problem, not mine. I pulled out my phone. I need you to do something for me. Call Richard Kellerman. Tell him I need to see him first thing Monday morning. Richard Kellerman was the best divorce attorney in Phoenix. Fletcher understood immediately. You’re serious about this?

Fletcher said, “Dead serious. I’ve overlooked a lot over the years. The spending, the obsession with social media, the way she talks to me sometimes, but planning to humiliate me in front of our investors and business partners for entertainment, for manipulation, that’s not something I can forgive.” Fletcher nodded slowly. “What about Ivy? The mention of my daughter hit hard, but I kept my voice steady.

That’s why I need Richard. I want joint custody minimum, preferably primary.

Cadence is too focused on her influencer life to be the parent Ivy needs. The spending records will help. Fletcher said 47,000 in 6 months while you’re working 60our weeks. That shows priorities. My parents arrived at 4 to pick up Ivy. I kissed my daughter goodbye, holding her a bit longer than usual. Love you, Daddy. Ivy said squeezing my neck. Love you more, sweetheart. I replied. Be good for grandma and grandpa. My mother Beatatrice studied my face. Everything all right, dear. You seem tense. Just big night, mom. Important event. She didn’t look convinced, but my father Bernard distracted her by asking about the new location plans. They left with Ivy chattering about the ice cream grandpa had promised her. By 6, guests start arriving. investors, potential partners, local business owners, members from all three gyms. I moved through the crowds smoothly, shaking hands, discussing expansion plans, projecting confidence I didn’t entirely feel.

Cadence arrived at 7:15, looking stunning in a designer dress I’d probably paid for. She kissed my cheek like nothing was wrong. Great turnout, Cadence said brightly. It is, I agreed.

Should be a memorable evening. Her friends filtered in separately. Jessica with her phone already out. Mia looking nervous. Amanda with that smug expression she always wore. They positioned themselves around the room exactly as I’d heard them plan. At 7:50, I was talking with two potential investors about the Anthem location when Cadence approached. The room’s energy shifted slightly. People sensed something was about to happen. Becket, Cadence said, her voice carrying across the space. We need to talk now. Here we go. I turned to face Cadence, noting Jessica’s phone was already recording.

Mia had positioned herself near the catering table, Amanda by the presentation boards. Just like they planned. Of course, I said calmly.

What’s on your mind? Cadence took a deep breath, her expression shifting to serious. The performance had begun. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about us, about our marriage, and I don’t think this is working anymore. The conversations around us stopped, heads turned. I could see Fletcher in my peripheral vision, arms crossed, watching. I nodded slowly as if considering this revelation carefully.

You’re absolutely right. Cadence’s eyes widened. That wasn’t in her script.

What? You said our marriage isn’t working anymore. I replied evenly. I agree with you. Thank you for being honest about your feelings. I pulled my keys from my pocket and set my drink on the nearest table. I’ll have my attorney contact you Monday to begin divorce proceedings. You can stay in the house until we work out the details. I’ll be at Fletcher’s place. I started walking toward the exit. The silence in the room was absolute. Wait, Cadence called out, her voice breaking. That’s it. You’re just leaving. I turned back, addressing not just her, but the entire room of witnesses. What did you expect, Cadence?

You just told me our marriage isn’t working. I respect your decision. I’m not going to force someone to stay married to me who clearly doesn’t want to be. But don’t you want to talk about this? Her composure was shattering. Try to work things out. Work what out? I asked reasonably. You just told everyone here that our marriage isn’t working.

I’m accepting your statement at face value. I’m not going to beg someone to stay who’s made it clear they want out.

One of the investors, a man named Gerald who’d been married 40 years, spoke up.

Son, aren’t you going to fight for your wife? I looked at Gerald directly. Fight for what exactly? She’s told me clearly that our marriage isn’t working. I respect her enough to accept her decision rather than trying to manipulate or pressure her into staying.

Cadence’s face was flushing red now. Her friends looked panicked. This was nothing like what they planned. Maybe we could just take a break instead. Cadence suggested desperately. A break sounds reasonable. I agreed. How long were you thinking? 6 months? A year? That should give you plenty of time to figure out what you really want. Her mouth opened and closed. She clearly hadn’t thought beyond me begging her to stay. Jessica, unable to help herself, stepped forward.

Her phone was still recording. Cadence, just tell him how you really feel about the marriage. I looked at Jessica with polite interest. She just did. She said it’s not working. Those feelings seem pretty clear to me. Amanda jumped in, clearly trying to salvage their plan.

All marriages go through rough patches.

You just need to try harder to make her happy. This isn’t a rough patch, I said, looking directly at Cadence. This is my wife making a conscious decision to end our marriage. And I’m mature enough to respect that decision rather than fighting it. The guests were openly staring now. Some were whispering to each other, clearly sensing something was very wrong with this whole situation. Cadence was starting to panic. You’re being really immature about this, Becket. I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m being immature by respecting your decision and handling this quietly instead of causing a scene.” “That’s not what I meant,” she said, her voice rising. “Then what did you mean?” I asked calmly. “Because you said you wanted to end our marriage, and I’m handling this as maturely as possible by accepting your decision without making it more difficult than it needs to be.” Amanda had just admitted exactly what this was about, testing me. The room absorbed those words. I looked at Amanda with genuine curiosity. So Cadence staged this breakup to test whether I cared about her, to see if I would fight for our marriage. Amanda’s face went white as she realized what she’d revealed. That’s not I didn’t mean. But I wasn’t finished. I addressed the entire room, my voice calm and clear.

That’s interesting because I happen to overhear all of you rehearsing this entire scenario earlier today in the women’s locker room. Cadence’s face drained of color. She looked like she might faint. The part where you plan to position yourselves around the room, I continued. Where Jessica was going to film everything for social media content. Where you discussed exactly how I would respond before you graciously took me back after I promised expensive trips and gifts, of course. Jessica’s phone, still recording, suddenly disappeared behind her back. Too late.

Everyone had seen it. The investors and guests were murmuring now, looking between Cadence and her friends with disgust. “You planned this whole thing,” Gerald, the longtime investor, said. His voice carried clear disapproval. That’s manipulative. Who does something like that to someone they supposedly love?

Another guest added. Fletcher stepped forward. I think we all need to understand what really happened here tonight. Beckett’s wife and her friends orchestrated this entire scene. They plan to humiliate him publicly, film his reaction, and use his response as leverage to extract promises of expensive gifts and vacations. The room’s temperature seemed to drop 20°.

People were staring at Cadence with open contempt. Now, I look directly at Cadence. The breakup you stage for entertainment. It’s real now. I walked toward the exit. This time, Cadence followed me outside, her friends trailing behind like guilty children.

The cool evening air hit my face.

Becket, please. Cadence grabbed my arm, tears streaming down her face. I’m so sorry. It was stupid. I never actually wanted to divorce you. I love you. I stopped and looked at her. Really?

Looked at her. The problem isn’t that you tested me, Cadence. It’s that you thought I was someone who could be manipulated like this. I don’t understand, she said desperately. You valued your friends entertainment more than my dignity. You were willing to humiliate me in front of investors and business partners for what? Social media content to see me beg to prove you had power over me. Her tears were flowing freely. But I continued, “Someone who really loved me wouldn’t try to humiliate me for entertainment. Someone who respected me wouldn’t test me like I’m an experiment. And someone who trusted me would talk to me directly instead of playing games.” “But I do love you,” she protested weakly. No, I said with quiet certainty. You love having power over me. You love the drama and attention, but that’s not love, Cadence. That’s control. Jessica finally spoke up. Her voice small. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I looked at her coldly. What was it supposed to go like, Jessica? Was I supposed to get on my knees and beg? Promise to buy Cadence expensive things, crying promised to change everything about myself. Mia tried to defend their actions. We just wanted to help her feel more secure in the marriage by teaching her to be manipulative and dishonest. I asked, “That’s your idea of relationship security?” Amanda made one last attempt.

Every relationship needs some testing.

It’s normal to want proof that your partner really loves you. I looked at her directly. Does your relationship need testing? Did you manipulate your boyfriend by pretending to leave him?

Does he know you think healthy relationships requires psychological games? She couldn’t meet my eyes. Here’s what I learned tonight. I said, addressing all four of them. When someone tests you, they’re telling you they don’t trust you. When someone manipulates you, they’re telling you they don’t respect you. And when someone humiliates you for their friend’s amusement, they’re telling you exactly who they are. Cadence, reach for my hand. Please, can we start over? Pretend this never happened. I’ll do anything.

No, I said simply, pulling away because now I know who you really are. And more importantly, I know who I am. I’m someone who won’t be tested, manipulated, or disrespected. I started walking toward my car. Where are you going? Cadence called after me, her voice breaking. To Fletcher’s place. My attorney will contact you Monday. This is insane, she shouted. You’re throwing away 5 years over one mistake. I stopped and turned back one final time. This wasn’t a mistake, Cadence. Mistakes are accidents. This was a deliberate choice.

You spent time planning it. recruited your friends and were excited about filming my reaction. That’s not poor judgment. That’s who you are. I got in my car and drove away, seeing them still standing in the parking lot in my rearview mirror. The relationship was over the moment Cadence decided her friend’s approval was more important than my dignity. I woke up Saturday morning on Fletcher’s couch feeling something I hadn’t felt in months.

Clarity. My phone had 43 messages. I ignored them while making coffee.

Fletcher came out of his bedroom around 8. How you holding up? Better than expected. I said, “Honestly, it’s like a weight lifted.” “Good, because cadence have been blowing up my phone, too.” Fletcher showed me his screen. 17 missed calls. Her mother, Vivian, called me at 6:00 this morning. Called you a bunch of names I won’t repeat. I wasn’t surprised. Viven had always treated me like I wasn’t good enough for her daughter. What did she want to tell me what a mistake you’re making? How Cadence is devastated? how you’re abandoning your family over nothing.

Fletcher poured himself coffee. I told her I heard the whole plan and hung up.

My phone rang. My mother beatress. I answered, “Becket, what on earth is happening?” Mom asked, “Vivien just called me saying you abandoned Cadence at some event last night. That you’re filing for divorce over a misunderstanding.” It wasn’t a misunderstanding, Mom. Cadence and her friends planned to publicly humiliate me in front of my investors. They were going to film it for social media and use it to manipulate me into expensive promises. I overheard them rehearsing the whole thing. Silence. Then mom’s voice came back cold and sharp. She did what? I explained everything. When I finished, Mom was furious. That manipulative little mom caught herself.

Your father and I never quite trusted her, but we hoped we were wrong. We have Ivy here. What do you want us to do?

Keep her today if you can. I need to get some things organized. I’ll come by tomorrow morning. Of course, dear. And Becket, you did the right thing. Your father will want to talk to you later.

After we hung up, I finally looked at Cadence’s messages. The progression was textbook. Desperate apologies, then bargaining, then anger, then more apologies mixed with blame. Baby, I’m so sorry. Please come home. We can work this out. I can’t believe you’re ignoring me. We need to talk like adults. I’m cutting off Jessica, Mia, and Amanda completely. This is all their fault. You’re being incredibly cruel. I made one mistake. I love you so much.

Don’t throw us away. I deleted each one without responding. Sunday morning, I drove to my parents house. Ivy ran to me the moment I walked in. Daddy. She wrapped her arms around my legs. I picked her up, holding her tight. Hey, sweetheart. Did you have fun with grandma and grandpa? We made cookies and grandpa read me three stories. My father, Bernard, pulled me aside while Ivy showed mom her coloring. Your mother told me everything. I’m proud of you, son. Takes gets to walk away from manipulation like that. Thanks, Dad.

What’s your plan? Meeting with Richard Kellerman tomorrow morning. Filing for divorce and primary custody. Dad nodded approvingly. Document everything. The spending, the planning, all of it.

Judges don’t look kindly on mothers who prioritize social media over their children. Monday morning, I sat in Richard Kellerman’s office with Fletcher. Richard was 58, silver-haired, and had a reputation for winning difficult cases. Tell me everything, Richard said. I laid out the whole story. The overheard conversation, the public setup, the manipulation attempt, the spending records. Fletcher provided his witness account. Richard listened carefully, taking notes. When I finished, he leaned back. This is actually stronger than most cases I see.

Richard said, “You’ve got witnesses to the planning, witnesses to the public scene, documentation of excessive spending, and clear evidence of manipulation. How old is your daughter?” Three. And Cadence’s occupation. She’s a lifestyle influencer, about 95,000 followers. Works part-time at a marketing firm, maybe 15 hours a week.

Richard made notes. Your work schedule 60 hours usually, but flexible. I own the business. I can adjust my schedule for custody. Good. Here’s what we’re looking at. Richard pulled out a legal pad. We’ll file for divorce, citing irreconcilable differences. We’ll request primary physical custody with Cadence getting standard visitation.

We’ll document her priorities. The spending records show 47,000 in 6 months while you worked 60-hour weeks. The manipulation attempt shows poor judgment and character. What about the house?

Fletcher asked. Depends. Is it marital property? I bought it 2 years before we married. I said it’s in my name only.

Even better. We can offer her a reasonable financial settlement to vacate. Given her behavior in your separate ownership, a judge will likely support that. Richard looked at me directly. Be prepared for her to fight dirty. She’ll accuse you of being an absent father, of caring more about business than family. She might even make false accusations. I’m prepared. I said, “One more thing,” Richard said.

Don’t communicate with her directly.

Everything goes through me. Don’t respond to texts, calls, or visits. If she shows up at your home or business, document it, but don’t engage.

Understand? Understood? I left Richard’s office feeling focused. This wasn’t about revenge. This was about protecting myself and my daughter from someone who value manipulation over trust. Tuesday morning, Cadence was served with divorce papers at the house. She called me 17 times that day. I didn’t answer. She showed up at the Paradise Valley gym during my afternoon training session.

“Becket, please,” she said, tears streaming. “We need to talk. My attorney told you all communication goes through him, I said calmly, not stopping my workout consultation with the client.

This is insane. You can’t just throw away our family. You should have thought about that before you plan to humiliate me for entertainment. I turned to my client. Sorry about this. Let’s move to the other section. Cadence followed us.

I made a mistake. People make mistakes.

Fletcher appeared from his office.

Cadence, you need to leave now or I’m calling security. She left, but not before shouting that I regret this. 3 weeks into the divorce proceedings, Richard called me into his office with urgent news. We have a situation, Richard said, sliding a folder across his desk. Your accountant found something during the asset review. I opened the folder. Bank statements, credit card records, transaction histories. My blood ran cold as I read through them. Cadence has been hiding accounts, Richard explained. She opened three credit cards in your name without your knowledge. Combined debt of $32,000.

All spending occurred in the last 4 months. That’s identity fraud, I said.

Correct. We’re documenting it for the court. There’s more. Richard pulled out another document. We subpoenaed her phone records as part of discovery.

She’s been in regular contact with a divorce attorney for 5 weeks, starting 2 weeks before the investor event. The implications hit me immediately. She was planning this before the manipulation attempt. It appears she intended to create a situation where you looked bad publicly, then file for divorce and claim emotional abuse or neglect. The manipulation scene was meant to establish a pattern of you not valuing her. I sat back processing this. So, the whole thing was even more calculated than I thought, much more. We also found text messages between Cadence and her mother, Vivien, discussing how to maximize the divorce settlement. They specifically mentioned targeting the gym business valuation. Fletcher, who’d come with me, shook his head. That’s cold blooded. There’s one more thing, Richard said carefully. We’re going to need to request a paternity test for Ivy. My heart stopped. What? It’s standard procedure when there’s evidence of deception this extensive. I know it’s painful, but we need to cover all bases.

The paternity test came back a week later. Positive. Ivy was mine. The relief nearly knocked me over, but the damage was done. Cadence had been planning to destroy me financially and emotionally for at least 2 months. Every smile, every kiss, every I love you during that time had been a lie. The custody hearing was straightforward.

Richard presented the spending records, the fraud documentation, the manipulation scheme, and testimony from witnesses at the investor event.

Cadence’s attorney tried to paint me as an absent workaholic father, but my parents testified about my regular involvement with Ivy. The judge awarded me primary physical custody with Cadence getting alternating weekends and one evening per week. The house remained mine. Cadence was ordered to pay back the fraudulent debt and received a minimal settlement. As we left the courthouse, Cadence tried one last time.

Becket, please. Can we talk about this?

We have nothing to discuss. I said, “Your visitation schedule isn’t a court order. Follow it.” Her face twisted with anger. You’re going to regret this. Ivy will hate you for keeping her from me.

Ivy will know her mother chose manipulation and fraud over being honest. That’s on you, not me. 14 months after that investor event, my life looked completely different. The Anthem location opened successfully. Fletcher and I expanded in attemp making it five gyms total. Revenue was up 40% yearover-year. Without the constant drain of Cadence’s spending, the business flourished. Ivy adjusted better than I expected. She lived with me full-time, visiting Cadence on scheduled weekends. My parents helped with child care when needed, and I’d restructure my schedule to be home every evening for dinner and bedtime. Daddy, can we make pancakes tomorrow? Ivy asked one Saturday morning, sitting on the kitchen counter while I made breakfast.

Absolutely. What kind? Blueberry or chocolate chip? Both? She giggled. I’d started dating again around the 10-month mark. Nothing serious, just coffee here and there. Then I met Lauren at a business networking event. She was 38, on a successful physical therapy practice, and had been through her own divorce 3 years earlier. She had two kids from her first marriage. So, your ex-wife tried to manipulate you publicly for Instagram content. Lauren had asked on our third date. Her expression incredulous. That’s the short version.

Yes, that’s insane. My ex cheated, but at least he was honest about being a terrible person afterward. She laughed, then gotten serious. How’s your daughter handling everything? That question told me everything I needed to know about Lauren. She left with asking about Ivy.

We took it slow. She met Ivy after 4 months of dating. They clicked immediately over a shared love of art projects and Disney movies. Standing in my kitchen now, watching Ivy color the table while Lauren helped her, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years. Peace.

This was what a real relationship looked like. Communication, trust, respect. No games, no tests, no manipulation. My phone bust. A text from Fletcher. New investor interested in California expansion meeting Tuesday. You in? I replied, absolutely. Let’s build it. I’d learned the most valuable lesson that night at the investor event. Knowing your worth means being willing to walk away from anyone who doesn’t recognize it. Real love doesn’t need tests or manipulation. And sometimes the best thing that can happen is discovering who someone really is before you waste any more of your life with them. Cadence had tried to break me down to build herself up. Instead, she’d freed me to build something genuine. And for that, in a strange way, I was grateful. Daddy looked. Ivy held up her drawing. It’s you, me, and Lauren at the park. I looked at the crayon figures holding hands under a bright sun. “That’s beautiful, sweetheart,” I said.

“Absolutely beautiful.” And it was