BRUISING MY EX HUSBAND'S EGO

The atmosphere felt stifling, as if the air itself was constricting around me. My heart pounded with anxiety, our faces mere inches apart.

"You seem tense. Do you miss me?" Alexander's voice sliced through the silence. I chose to ignore him, fully aware that I wanted nothing to do with someone who had hurt me.

I shifted slightly, but he moved closer, pinning me against the wall with his hand beside me. I turned my gaze away.

"Don't come any closer, Alexander. You're such a coward," I spat, glaring at him with fury, my fists clenched tightly.

"Calm down. We're in the women's bathroom. What do you think people will say if they see two people of different genders here?" he hesitated, brushing a strand of hair from my face, sending chills down my spine. I watched him, a mess of words as he cleared his throat. "It'll ruin your reputation, Lyvanne."

I let out a weak chuckle, meeting his gaze.

"My reputation is none of your concern. Just take your hands off my hair," I replied sharply, though my tone was serious. Just then, I heard the soft click of the other door. It seemed I had mistakenly used the wrong bathroom. I quickly pushed him aside, reached for the doorknob, and flung the door open.

"Get out! Now!”

Alexander pauses for just a moment, his expression shifting to one of steely resolve. He locked his gaze onto mine, exuding an unsettling calmness, his jaw tightly set. For an instant, it felt as if time had frozen; the only sound was the rapid beating of my heart, pounding against my ribs, straining to escape.

A smirk played on his lips as he stepped back, but not before casting one last heavy glance my way, his eyes pressing down on me like a weight.

“You need to hear me out, Lyvanne,” he said softly.

I remained silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reply. I slammed the door shut with a force that reverberated through the tense silence of the room. My heart raced, out of control. I turned away from the door, pressing my back against it, struggling to steady my breath and ignore the tremors in my hands.

Inhale. Exhale. Slowly.

In the stillness of the bathroom, I attempted to regain my composure. The air felt suffocated, but I refused to acknowledge that it’s him who lingers in my thoughts. I pressed my fingers to my temples, forcing myself to take deep, measured breaths.

One. Two. Three.

The door handle rattles again. I froze. No.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I found his dark gaze fixed on me once more as he showed no interest in leaving. His expression was one of irritation, his body uncomfortably close, and his lips twisted into a cold, unwelcoming line.

I interrupted, pushing him aside, what a foolish man to think he could flirt with me.

Immediately I stepped out of the bathroom, leaving him inside, I adjusted my dress and made my way into the hall, where cheers and murmurs filled the air. Both men and women rose to acknowledge my presence. I left that fool behind to deal with his own mess and thank goodness he didn't follow me.

As I walked through the hall, the sound of my heels barely registered, my mind still reeling from the encounter in the bathroom. The tension in my chest was unyielding, the memory of Alexander’s closeness and touch haunting me like a persistent shadow. My heart raced, each beat pressing against my ribs, making it difficult to breathe.

When I reached the stage, my eyes instinctively searched for the empty seat next to me. Alexander should have been there. The absence felt heavy, a tangible weight I was reluctant to acknowledge.

I stepped forward to take the award intended for him, which was now mine. The host’s congratulations faded into the background, a mere buzz in my ears, overshadowed by everything else. I offered a polite smile, though it didn’t reach my eyes. I was physically present but secretly relishing the thought of ruining his day.

The applause felt empty, a sound that seemed to belong to someone else. I nodded in acknowledgment, but all I wanted was to escape, to break free from the lingering gazes. I turned swiftly, leaving the stage without a backward glance. I was indifferent to the stares and whispers; I just wanted to get away from him, away from everything that connected me to this place.

“Lyvanne, wait.”

His voice slices through the silence, igniting a spark of irritation within me. I kept walking, refusing to turn and acknowledge him.

“What do you want, Alexander?” I asked, my tone sharper than I meant it to be. My grip on the award tightened, but I avoided looking at it or him.

“I need to talk to you,” he replied, his voice tinged with an emotion I’d rather not recognize. Desperation? Regret? It’s irrelevant.

“About what?” I finally pivot to face him, our eyes locking, and I can feel the tension hanging heavily between us.

“About what happened back there?” I gesture vaguely toward the bathroom, but the words feel alien, as if they don’t belong to me.

He stepped closer, bridging the gap between us. I stood firm, even as old feelings began to resurface. I can’t—won’t—let them take control of me again.

“You’re just going to pretend I don’t exist after everything?” His voice was a low murmur, yet it hit me like a slap. The rawness in his tone grates on my nerves.

“I’m not pretending, Alexander.” My voice remained calm and even. “I’m simply done with you.”

I saw the disbelief in his eyes after my words rang in his head: shock, followed by anger.

“You’re done with me, you said?” he echoed, as if the notion was absurd. “You can’t be serious, Lyvanne.”

“I am.” I crossed my arms, struggling to maintain my composure, which was more difficult than I’d like to admit. “And I don’t owe you anything.”

“Then why are you still here?” His voice tightened, as if he was battling to maintain control over the situation.

“I have nothing more to say to you.” I responded, my voice steady and unwavering,

He reached out, his fingers brushing against my arm, and I recoiled, anger surging within me. “Don’t touch me!”

His expression darkened, and the tension in his body intensified. I sensed his fury bubbling just beneath the surface, but it was none of my concern. I’ve witnessed it before. It was time for him to go through the same pain he once caused me.

“I’ll make you listen,” he snarled.

Before he could advance, my guard stepped in front of him, stopping him reaching me. Without delaying a second, I turned to leave as I avoided looking at him. I don’t need to.

“Don’t. I’m leaving, and you’re not coming after me.” My tone remained calm and firm.

For a brief moment, Alexander remained still, his jaw tight, his eyes filled with frustration, perhaps even something deeper that I prefer to ignore. He seemed on the verge of speaking, but the words didn't come.

I hissed as I headed to my car and slid inside. I watched from the window as Alexander stood there, exposed. At that point, I felt a sense of relief, yet worried at the same time.

Well, this is just the beginning of what I have planned to do to him for the pain he caused me…