I thought I had found the perfect man and we were planning our wedding when I stepped outside one morning and saw five spray-painted words on his car: ‘You picked the wrong guy, gave him the wrong finger.’ At that moment, everything I believed about him started to fall apart.

When you’re truly happy, you don’t expect disaster. Just a few days ago, Ethan had proposed to me, and now we were slowly talking about the wedding.

I kept smiling at nothing, thinking about how lucky I was. Ethan was everything I had ever dreamed of in a man—gentle, kind, thoughtful, responsible. I had waited a long time for this kind of love.

We had our little routines, one of which was breakfast together. I always got up early and cooked, then woke Ethan so we could start the day with coffee, eggs, and plans.

That morning was no different. I was flipping pancakes when the doorbell rang. Strange. We weren’t expecting anyone.

When I opened the door, I saw Megan, our neighbor from across the street. She lived with her brother Jay.

Megan was the type of person who always knew everyone’s business, and while I wasn’t a fan of that, I tolerated her. Jay, on the other hand, was sweet and respectful, always polite when we crossed paths.

“Good morning,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.

Megan gave me an odd look, almost… sympathetic. “I’m so sorry, Rachel.”

My stomach dropped. “Sorry? For what?”

“I mean, you just got engaged… and now this? It must be awful.”

“What are you talking about?” I frowned. “Ethan and I are perfectly fine.”

She glanced behind her toward the street. “I just thought maybe you knew. I mean, your fiancé’s car… there’s a message on it. And it’s not exactly cheerful.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What message?”

Megan hesitated. “You should probably see it for yourself.” Then she walked away.

I went back to the kitchen and turned off the stove, quickly slipped on my sandals, and walked outside. I scanned Ethan’s car. From the front and back, it looked normal. But when I stepped to the passenger side, I froze.

There it was. A spray-painted message across the windows and door: ‘You picked the wrong guy, gave him the wrong finger.’

My mouth went dry. My first thought was that it had to be a joke. A cruel, tasteless joke. But something about it felt off. Ethan and I had no enemies. At least I thought we didn’t.

I stormed back inside and up the stairs to our bedroom. Ethan was still sleeping, curled under the blanket.

“Ethan!” I shook his shoulder.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” he mumbled.

“Have you seen your car this morning?”

He blinked at me. “My car? No, why?”

“There’s a message painted on the side. Someone vandalized it.”

He sat up, confused. “Last night, everything was fine. I parked and came straight in.”

“Well, it’s not fine now,” I said. “Come and see for yourself.”

We stood on the sidewalk together, staring at the words. Ethan scratched the back of his neck.

“Any idea who might have done this?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No clue.”

“Then why would someone write something like this?”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not hiding anything from me?”

He met my gaze. “Of course not. I love you, Rachel. I would never lie to you.”

He leaned in and kissed my cheek, then turned to go inside.

“I told you we should’ve installed security cameras!” I called after him.

That gave me an idea. Megan’s house. They had cameras pointing at the street.

Ethan was already sitting at the table when I came back in.

“Are you going to call the police?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No need. It’s probably just some stupid prank.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Okay.”

“I’ll have to take the bus today,” he added, getting up. “I’ll see you tonight.” Another kiss on the cheek, and he was gone.

I changed clothes and went to Megan’s. Jay opened the door.

“Hey,” I said. “I know this is strange, but someone vandalized Ethan’s car last night. Do your cameras point at our driveway?”

Jay nodded. “Megan already told me about it. Come in, we’ll check the footage.”

Of course she did, I thought. Megan and her big mouth.

Jay led me to the computer. We watched the footage from the night before. Around 2 a.m., a hooded figure appeared on screen, approached the car, spray-painted the message, and quickly walked away. Their face was completely hidden.

Jay sighed. “Sorry. There’s no way to tell who it was.”

“Thank you anyway,” I said. “I appreciate your help.”

Jay hesitated. “Can I ask… do you really think this was a prank?”

I looked at him. “What else could it be?”

Jay met my eyes. “The message… it seemed personal. Like someone trying to tell you something.”

“You think Ethan’s hiding something?”

Jay shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re the one marrying him.”

I left feeling uneasy. That day, when Ethan got home, he was scrubbing the car clean. Once the message was gone, he came back inside.

“You sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?” I asked him again.

He smiled. “There’s nothing, babe. The car is clean, it’s over.”

But I couldn’t sleep. Around midnight, Ethan’s phone buzzed with a message. I shouldn’t have looked, but I did.

‘Meet me after work tomorrow. We need to talk.’ And the address. I copied the address into my phone.