Chapter 2

But this time, the Winstons were ready for me.

Claire's brother, Nathan Winston, blocked the ballroom entrance. "Julian, I know Claire's in the wrong here. But there are guests everywhere watching. Are you really going to ruin her like this?"

The last time we'd all been together, Nathan had been joking about when Claire and I would get married, saying he already had a great speech ready for us.

Claire's best friend, Wendy Marsh, came running after me in heels. "Julian, I know you're hurting right now, but Claire's given you a lot over these years too. Don't blow up at her right when it matters most."

Just last month, when Wendy's father fell sick and she was short on cash, I lent her 8,000 dollars.

She'd wiped her tears and told me that if Claire ever did anything terrible, she'd be the first one who would stand up for me.

More and more people crowded in front of me. Old friends. People I promoted at work. Coworkers I used to grab dinner with.

I shoved through the crowd, falling apart like some kind of wild animal.

A sharp voice cut through, "Enough!"

The crowd parted.

Claire stood three steps away in her elegant wedding gown, as cool and composed as ever.

I stood there with my hair a mess, my collar yanked crooked, and footprints all over my shirt.

She stared at me in silence for a few seconds, then spoke in a rough voice, "Julian, take whatever revenge you want on me. But Adrian has asthma. He can't handle this kind of shock. I'm begging you, don't make a scene in front of him."

This was the first time I'd ever seen Claire lower herself like that.

Once, a client had deliberately provoked her at a business dinner, forcing shot after shot of hard liquor on her. She drank until her stomach bled and never once said a word that showed weakness.

And now, she was willing to humble herself completely for another man.

My chest hurt so much I could barely breathe. With tears in my eyes, I forced the words out from somewhere deep in my throat, each one dripping with venom.

"Claire, you're a piece of garbage!"

I grabbed her by the throat and slapped her three times, hard. The sound cracked through the hallway. Her face snapped sideways with each hit, swelling red.

She wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth. "Feel better now? If not, keep going."

There was almost a sense of indulgence in her voice, like she was humoring a child throwing a tantrum.

Seeing her certainty, and looking at the calm, composed crowd standing behind her, those three slaps suddenly felt like they'd landed on nothing but air.

They were all so sure I still loved Claire. So sure I'd never actually destroy her. So sure that once I'd blown off enough steam, I'd back down quietly like always.

Something in my chest went cold. I let go of her and stepped back.

Surprise flickered in her eyes, her brow furrowing slightly. "Julian..."

"Claire, these past five years, I'll just consider them..."

Before I could finish, the ballroom doors swung open, and a clear voice rang out, "What... is going on here?"

Adrian stood in the doorway, looking fragile, like a glass doll about to shatter.

The ice in Claire's eyes melted instantly, and her voice softened as she said, "Why did you come out here? It's cold. You'll catch a chill."

Adrian's eyes went wide with shock when he saw the marks on her face. "What happened? Claire, who hit you?"

She quickly turned her face away. "It's nothing. I bumped into something by accident. I'll have the makeup artist cover it up later."

Adrian's hand curled into a fist, his eyes darkening for a moment.

Then, out of nowhere, he grabbed my arm. "Mr. Chase, since you're already here, why not come in and have a drink to celebrate?"

He pulled me into the ballroom without giving me a chance to object.

Up on the big screen, a slideshow of their relationship was playing.

March 21st. The day I ended up in the hospital from exhaustion after spending a full week pulling all-nighters just to make it home in time for our anniversary.

That same day, the two of them were watching the sunrise together at the beach, kissing in the warm morning light.

June 7th. The day a typhoon hit Port Elias. My flight got caught in violent turbulence, and I sat there writing what I thought might be my last words to Claire.

That same day, they were on a mountaintop watching shooting stars, promising each other a lifetime together.

August 19th. The day I ate instant noodles alone after buying Claire a gift to apologize for not being there, drowning in guilt.

That same day, she stood holding 999 roses, accepting Adrian's proposal in front of a cheering crowd of friends and family.

Each photo hit me like a burning knife, carving into what was left of my heart over and over.

I bit down on my lip hard enough to keep myself from breaking down in tears.

"Mr. Chase, now you know what it looks like when Claire actually loves someone," said Adrian.

I turned to stare at him in shock. The corner of his mouth curled into a knowing smile.

A second later, the speakers blasted out an obscene, unmistakable sound.

Up on the screen, my own face appeared, eyes glazed over as I touched myself on camera, moaning Claire's name.