I Thought I Knew My Fiancé—Until I Saw a Message on His Car That Said ‘Wrong Guy, Wrong Finger

I believed I had found the perfect man, and we were planning our wedding, until I came outside one morning and noticed five spray-painted phrases on his car: ‘You picked the wrong guy, gave him the wrong finger.’ At that point, everything I believed about him began to crumble.

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 continued smiling at nothing, reflecting on how fortunate I was. Ethan was everything I had ever wanted in a man: sweet, kind, attentive, and responsible. I’d waited a long time for this type of love.

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

That morning was no different. I was frying pancakes when the doorbell rang. Strange. We were not expecting anyone.

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

Megan was the type of girl who always knew what was going on with everyone, which I didn’t like, but I tolerated her. Jay, on the other hand, was charming and considerate, and we always exchanged pleasantries when we met.

“Good morning,” I responded, my tone remaining neutral.

Megan gave me a weird look, almost compassionate. “I’m so sorry, Rachel.”

My stomach sank. “Sorry? “For what?”

“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 cast a glance behind her toward the street. “I just thought you might know. I noticed a message on your fiancé’s automobile. And it’s not particularly happy.”

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. The windows and entrance were spray-painted with the message, ‘You picked the wrong guy, gave him the wrong finger.’

My mouth became dry. My first assumption was that it must be a prank. A nasty and disgusting joke. But something about it seemed odd. Ethan and I didn’t have any enemies. At least, I believed we didn’t.

I marched back inside and up the stairs to our bedroom. Ethan was still asleep, cuddled up 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 have no idea,” he said. “Maybe someone mistook my car for someone else’s.”

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

He met my gaze. “Certainly not. I love you, Rachel. “I’d never lie to you.”

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

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

That gave me an idea. Megan’s home. They had cameras looking down the street.

When I returned, Ethan had already taken his place at the table.

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

He shakes his head. “There’s no need. It’s probably a stupid prank.”

I bit the inside of my cheeks. “Okay.”

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

I changed my 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.

The next morning, Ethan casually mentioned that he would be staying late at work.

“Lots to handle lately,” he said.

“Okay,” I replied. “I’ll have dinner on my own then.”

He smiled. “Sounds good.”

My thoughts swirled all day. Jay’s words. The Message. That text. I couldn’t ignore them.

After work, I headed to the address. Ethan’s automobile was already present. I parked across the street and peeked in the window. Inside were Ethan and a woman.

They sat with paperwork between them and talked casually. Nothing romantic. I waited. Time has passed. Nothing occurred.

I stormed outside, keeping quiet, creeping toward their house. I wanted to catch him in the act. I stood beneath the open window and listened.

“I had to do it,” Ethan said. “You knew this relationship would end eventually. I told you I had to marry Rachel.”

I expected to hear Megan’s voice, but it wasn’t her. I heard Jay’s voice instead.

“And yet you told me you loved me,” Jay said.

My stomach turned. I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from gasping.

“My family would never accept me,” Ethan muttered.

“You can’t live your life hiding,” Jay replied. “You can’t lie to Rachel forever.”

“We can still see each other,” Ethan said.

“Are you kidding me?!” I burst into the room, my voice overlapping with Jay’s.

Ethan froze. “Rachel, it’s not what it looks like.”

“Not what it looks like?!” I screamed. “I trusted you! I loved you! And you lied to me every single day!”

“I didn’t have a choice! And I’m comfortable with you!”

“You don’t marry someone because they’re ‘comfortable,’ Ethan!”

He stepped forward. “Please forgive me.”

“No,” I said. “Pack your things. You’re done.”

“Rachel, please.”

“I want to marry someone who loves me, who wants me. Not someone who wants another man!”

“You can’t blame me for being gay!” he shouted.

“I don’t blame you for being gay!” I cried. “There’s nothing wrong with that! I blame you for building a life with me on a lie!”

“Rachel, I’m begging you,” he continued, approaching me.

“Go pack your things, Ethan,” I urged.

Ethan and I strolled back to the house in total silence. I unlocked the door and let us in. My hands were still shaking, but I remained cool. I had to.

He dropped his keys on the table and looked at me uncomfortably. “I’ll pack my things,” he murmured.

I did not respond. I simply followed him with my gaze as he strolled slowly around the room, opening drawers, grabbing clothes from the closet, and carelessly throwing them into his bag.

I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and watched every movement. I wanted to imprint this image on my memory so I would never forget what betrayal looked like.

Ethan zipped up the duffel bag and remained motionless for a time before turning to face me.

“Rachel…” His voice trembled. “Please. Don’t do this. We can work through it. Just give me one more chance. I made a mistake, but we’ve built a life together. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Rachel, I’m begging you,” he said, stepping toward me. “I swear, I’ll change. I’ll be better. I’ll do anything. Just… don’t throw this away.”

“I am not the one who threw it away,” I said. “You did. The moment you chose to live a double life.”

“But you made me feel safe,” he whispered.

I nodded. “And you made me feel like a fool.”

He lowered his sight. “So that’s it?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Now take your things and go.”

He stood there for a while more, defeated. He took up his suitcase and proceeded slowly to the door. He strolled outside without saying anything further and slammed the door behind him.

I stood in the silence of the house, arms folded. I’d never felt so angry or hollow. The silence was louder than any cry.

A few of minutes later, there came a knock.

“I told you to leave!” I yelled as I opened the door, not thinking to check first.

But it was not Ethan. It was Jay.

“Oh,” I said, surprised. “Sorry. I thought you were—”

“I know who you thought I was,” Jay replied softly, holding up a box of tea. “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. I was afraid.”

I stared at the tea. “Well. At least now I know the truth.”

Jay nodded. “Do you want something to calm your nerves?”

I gave a half-laugh. “We’re going to need something a lot stronger than tea.”

He gave a slight smile.

“Come in,” I called.

As Jay stepped inside and I closed the door behind him, I realized something: I wasn’t alone. Not anymore. Even though I had recently lost the man I had planned to marry, I had also discovered something considerably more essential. Myself.