Chapter 4

I turned to leave, still hearing Dexter's whining and Jasmine's low, soothing voice behind me.

"Don't stay upset anymore. It's not good for your heart," she said to him.

I quickened my pace, refusing to look back even once.

…

I never thought that Jasmine and Dexter would hop to action that quickly.

A couple of social media influencers live-streamed to their audience as they pointed their cameras at my front door, throwing rotten eggs, splashing red paint, and even spray-painting "Get lost, cheater!" on it.

I stood a short distance away, watching them destroy my place, suddenly realizing how absurd it was that they were accusing me of cheating when I was the one being cheated on. Besides, the real "side-chick" was sleeping peacefully next to my ex-wife.

I pulled out my phone and texted Jasmine.

"What's the meaning of the rotten eggs at my door?"

She didn't reply. But ten minutes later, my bank app lit up with a bank transfer notification. Only a single word was written in the transfer notes.

"Compensation."

I stared at the amount and chuckled.

It was compensation again. Jasmine always thought that every problem could be solved with money, as if the suffering and grievances I went through could be forgiven with a bank transfer.

I suddenly remembered the first time she "compensated" me like this. It was when I found Dexter's underwear in our bed.

I had come home earlier than expected from a business trip that day, and after pushing the bedroom door open, I saw the garment carelessly lying at the foot of the bed.

Jasmine came out of the shower just then, her hair still wet and messy.

I grilled her about the underwear, and she didn't even flinch as she replied, "It is exactly what you think it is."

I flew into a rage and demanded an explanation from her, losing my cool and screaming at her in the process. I trashed the room and asked her how she could do this to me.

But Jasmine remained silent throughout the entire ordeal. Ultimately, she transferred me a sum of money and said, "We can divorce if you want. You can leave."

But why?

"Why should I be the one leaving? I'm also part of this household!"

She went silent for a long while. Finally, she looked me in the eyes and said, "Noah, you know that I was the only one who didn't care about your past and still married you back then. Nobody else would have ever done that."

Silence hung in the air for a very long time after what she said.

That was the first time she deliberately hurt me by bringing up that incident.

What happened back in college wasn't my fault. And yet, she used it as an excuse to make it seem like I was "unworthy" of her.

Later on, she apologized and said that it was just something she'd blurted out in the heat of the moment.

However, I knew that it wasn't a mistake. It was what she thought of me. She had never really accepted me for me.

I snapped back to the present and stared at the "compensation" notification on my phone. Then, I took a screenshot and saved it to my gallery.

Every "compensation" she gave me was solid proof. I sent the screenshot to Vernon at once.

…

The next day, rumors accusing me of plagiarism spread online like wildfire. My name, my photo, and the college incident were all screenshotted and posted on the worldwide web for everyone to see.

I never thought that Jasmine would even tell Dexter about that incident. Who did she take me for?

And what did she actually take my worst fear and most traumatic experience for? Some sort of gossip for small talk? A bargaining chip to please her new lover?

I stared at the malicious comments attacking me on the internet.

Why? Why were the wrongdoers allowed to strut around triumphantly while the real victim was hounded at every turn?

Why did Jasmine and Dexter get to walk away unscathed while I was torn apart by the entire internet?

Just then, my phone buzzed with a text message from Vernon.

"The evidence is all set."

"Okay," I replied.

"Jasmine and Dexter will be holding their engagement party at The Grand Luxe Hotel in three days."

I made a call.

"Get me an invitation to the engagement party."

…

Three days later, I showed up in a bespoke black suit and walked into the ballroom as if I belonged there.

Dexter was dressed in a white tuxedo, with Jasmine's hand wrapped around his arm. He smiled brilliantly at all the guests as he sought out their blessings.

I took out my phone and began to live-stream.

"Good day, everyone. My name is Noah Hardin."

I gradually made my way onto the stage, my leather shoes clicking soundly against the marble flooring.

Jasmine finally caught sight of me, and her gaze sharpened at once.

I continued, "I'm taking all of you on a tour of the engagement party hosted by my ex-wife and my foster brother."