I Thought I Knew My Fiancé—Until I Saw a Message on His Car That Said ‘Wrong Guy, Wrong Finger
I thought I had discovered the ideal partner, and we were organizing our wedding ceremony. Then I walked outside one morning and saw five spray-painted messages on his vehicle: 'You chose the wrong person, gave him the wrong finger.' Everything I thought about him started to fall apart.
During truly joyful moments, you don't anticipate catastrophe. Several days earlier, Ethan had asked me to marry him, and we were slowly discussing the wedding ceremony.
I kept smiling for no reason, thinking about my good fortune. Ethan represented everything I had always desired in a partner: gentle, caring, focused, and reliable. I had waited many years for this kind of love.
We had small habits, including sharing breakfast together. I always rose early to prepare food, then woke Ethan so we could begin the day with coffee, eggs, and discussions.
That morning felt the same. I was cooking pancakes when the doorbell chimed. Unusual. We expected no visitors.
I answered the door and found Megan, our neighbor from the opposite side of the street. She shared a home with her brother, Jay.
Megan was the kind of person who always understood everyone's business, which I disliked, but I accepted her. Jay, however, was pleasant and thoughtful, and we always spoke politely when we encountered each other.
"Good morning," I replied, keeping my voice neutral.
Megan looked at me strangely, almost with pity. "I feel terrible for you, Rachel."
My stomach dropped. "Terrible? Why?"
"You recently became engaged..." She paused. "And now this happens? This must feel horrible."
"What do you mean?" I scowled. "Ethan and I are doing well."
She glanced behind her at the street. "I assumed you might already know. I saw a note on your fiancé's car. And the message isn't pleasant."
My heart jumped. "What note?"
Megan paused. "You should look at it yourself." She then left.
I returned to the kitchen and switched off the stove, quickly put on my sandals, and went outside. I examined Ethan's car. From the front and rear, it appeared normal. But when I moved to the passenger side, I stopped.
There it was. The windows and door displayed spray-painted words: 'You chose the wrong person, gave him the wrong finger.'
My mouth felt dry. My initial thought was that someone was playing a trick. A cruel and disgusting joke. But something about it felt strange. Ethan and I had no enemies. At least, I thought we didn't.
I walked back inside and climbed the stairs to our bedroom. Ethan was still sleeping, wrapped in the blanket.
"Ethan!" I shook his shoulder.
"Hm? What happened?" he said sleepily.
"Have you looked at your car today?"
He stared at me. "My car? No, why?"
"Someone painted a message on the side. Someone damaged it."
He straightened up, looking puzzled. "Everything seemed normal last night. I parked and walked directly inside."
"Well, nothing looks normal now," I replied. "Come and look at it yourself."
We stood together on the pavement, examining the words. Ethan rubbed the back of his neck.
"Do you have any thoughts about who could have done this?" I asked.
He moved his head from side to side. "I have no idea."
"So why would anyone write something like this?"
"I don't know," he replied. "Perhaps someone confused my car with another person's."
I looked at him suspiciously. "Are you keeping anything from me?"
He looked directly at me. "Absolutely not. I care about you, Rachel. I would never deceive you."
He moved closer, kissed my cheek, and headed back inside.
"I warned you we should have put up security cameras!" I shouted behind him.
This gave me a thought. Megan's house. They had cameras watching the street.
When I came back, Ethan had already sat down at the table.
"Will you contact the police?" I asked.
He moved his head no. "It's unnecessary. This is probably just a foolish prank."
I pressed my tongue against the inside of my cheeks. "Fine."
"I'll need to use the bus today," he said, getting up. "I'll see you this evening." He kissed my cheek again, then left.
I put on different clothes and visited Megan's house. Jay answered the door.
"Hi," I said. "I realize this sounds odd, but someone damaged Ethan's car during the night. Do your cameras face our driveway?"
Jay moved his head up and down. "Megan already mentioned it to me. Enter, we'll examine the recording."
Naturally she did, I thought. Megan and her tendency to talk.
Jay brought me to the computer. We viewed the recording from the previous night. At approximately 2 a.m., a person wearing a hood appeared on screen, walked up to the car, spray-painted the words, and quickly left. Their face remained completely covered.
Jay breathed out heavily. "I'm sorry. We cannot identify who it was."