Chapter 5
“Oops. Guess I forgot to say that to you guys,” I said without any remorse.
Hank and Lola looked at each other in shock.
“What? Why are you guys surprised?” I asked, then pointed to Lola’s midway lifted fork. “And oh Lola, please eat that. You must eat healthy and recover soon.”
Hank dropped what he was holding, his face contorting with rage. “What do you mean by that? What wedding? Who’s wedding? Don’t joke with me.”
I laughed when I heard that and waved my hand dismissively. “No, no, I’m not joking. I’m getting married. It’s my wedding.”
“What?” Hank and Lola exclaimed in unison.
Hank moved closer to me, but I stopped him with an outstretched palm.
“I don’t let other men near me,” I said coolly. “Only my fiancé.”
Hank’s face paled. “Monica, don’t be impulsive and throw away your life because of your jealousy. I love you. I’ll marry you and take care of you. Call your dad and cancel the wedding.”
After hearing this, I laughed hysterically and looked at both of them. “Take care of me? Love me? All you’ve been doing was sniff behind her-” I pointed at Lola “-and wag your tail around for her. You don’t love me. You love the idea of having me. That’s it.” I turned my gaze to Lola. “An you–have fun with this man of yours all you want. I won’t feel anything.”
I pushed back from the table as a car honked from outside. “Looks like my ride home is here. I’ll be leaving then.” I walked toward the bag I’d packed a day ago and was about to leave when Hank grabbed my hand fiercely, pivoting me to face him.
“Don’t be stupid,” he growled, fingers digging into my skin. “Did I say you can leave? I do not allow you to go.”
I instantly raised my hand and slapped him hard across his face. The crack echoed through the kitchen. Stunned, he released my hand.
“You should’ve thought about this before you decided to fuck my cousin,” I said coldly. “Now go on, have fun with her.”
I turned toward the door and reached for the handle. Before stepping out, I looked back at them one last time. “You guys are invited to my wedding. See you there.”
The door slammed behind me with a satisfying bang.
Outside, a sleek black car waited in the driveway. The driver opened the door for me, and I slid into the cool leather interior without looking back at the house.
My phone buzzed immediately. Hank. I declined the call.
It rang again. Hank again. I turned it off completely.
“To your father’s estate, Miss Monica?” the driver asked.
“Yes,” I replied, my voice steadier than I expected. “And please hurry.”
As we pulled away, I caught a glimpse of Hank bursting through the front door, his face twisted with anger and panic. He started running after the car, shouting something I couldn’t hear
Chapter 4
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2:46 am
through the closed windows.
I didn’t turn around.
The neighborhood blurred past as we accelerated. The streets I’d walked a thousand times with Hank–the coffee shop where we’d had our first date, the park where he’d proposed–all fade into the background. Memories I would need to forget.
My hand trembled as I touched the engagement ring still on my finger. I twisted it off an dropped it into my purse. It felt like removing a shackle.
For ten days, I’d been in the hospital, and he hadn’t even noticed I was gone. For days, I’d stare at the ceiling wondering what I’d done wrong, why I wasn’t enough. Now I knew. I’d never bee enough because his heart had always belonged to someone else.
My phone had dozens of missed calls by the time I turned it back on at a stoplight. Hank. Hank Hank. And one text message: “Please don’t do this. I love you. Come back.”
Too little, too late.
I deleted the message and blocked his number.
The car turned onto the long driveway leading to my parents‘ estate. The mansion loomed ahead, windows gleaming in the afternoon sun. My mother stood on the steps, elegant as always in her designer dress, waiting to welcome me home.
As the car stopped, I took a deep breath. The life I’d built with Hank was over. A new chapter was about to begin.
I stepped out of the car, shoulders back, head high.
‘Welcome home, darling,” my mother said, embracing me. “Your father has been on the phone al morning with the wedding planner. Everything’s coming together beautifully.”
‘Perfect,” I replied, forcing a smile. “I can’t wait.”
As we walked inside, I didn’t look back once. Not at the road behind me, not at the life I was
eaving behind. There was only forward now.
And if there were tears streaming down my face as I climbed the familiar stairs to my childhood bedroom, no one needed to know.
