False Hope

Charlotte's POV

I cursed under my breath as I hastily grabbed my bag after scrambling to get dressed. "Dylan is going to be furious," I muttered to myself as I bolted out of the door, leaving my marital home behind. I hurried towards the main road, my mind racing with the consequences of being so late.

Spotting a taxi, I waved frantically and yanked open the door. "Golden five-star hotel, please! And make it quick," I urged the driver, my voice tinged with urgency as I settled into the back seat. The city blurred past as the taxi sped towards my destination, my heart pounding with apprehension.

As I sank into the plush backseat of the taxi, I couldn't help but close my eyes, eagerly anticipating our arrival at the Golden Five-Star Hotel. Today is a monumental day for my husband, Dylan. He's taking over the family business as the new CEO of HAN DESIGNS. I wonder why I overslept last night. Was it the soothing patter of the rain, or because of the Pregnancy?

I've been married to Dylan Harmon for four years, and my love for him has only grown stronger. Just three days ago, I took a pregnancy test, and to my delight, it came out positive. With all the chaos surrounding Dylan's new role and the CEO event preparations, I haven't found the right moment to share the good news with him. I'm bursting with joy, and I can't wait to tell Dylan that we're going to have a baby.

"Ma'am, we're almost there," the taxi driver's voice pulls me out of my reverie, and I straighten up in my seat, my heart fluttering with excitement.

As I stepped out of the taxi and handed my card to the driver for payment, a sudden mishap unfolded after he gave me the Card, it fell! As I bent down to pick up my fallen card, it slipped from my grasp and landed close to a muddy puddle, evidence of the heavy rain from the previous night. "Oh no, not now," I muttered under my breath, reaching for the card and carefully tucking it away in my bag.

Before I could fully compose myself, the sound of urgent footsteps drew my attention. I looked up to see a young man being pursued by the police, hurtling in my direction. In a split second, he collided with my shoulder, causing a sharp jolt of pain to shoot through me. I stumbled and, to my dismay, tumbled into the muddy puddle, my bag and phone spilling into the mire along with me. "Oh, why today of all days?" I lamented internally, feeling a surge of frustration as I struggled to rise from the mess, my once gorgeous white gown now marred by streaks of brown.

As I picked myself up from the puddle, I frantically searched for my belongings amidst the chaos. My heart sank as I surveyed the sorry state of my bag, its contents disheveled and unrecognizable on the muddy puddle.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" a concerned voice called out to me as I attempted to take what I could from the mud.

I looked up to see a hotel staff member approaching, concern etched across his face. "I'm... I'm fine, thank you," I managed to reply, my voice strained with dismay. "I just need to gather my things. It's been quite an... eventful morning."

The staff member nodded sympathetically and offered a hand to help me retrieve my scattered belongings.

After hastily gathering my mud-spattered belongings, I dashed into the hotel, my heart racing with embarrassment and urgency. Spotting Dylan at the front of the hall, I couldn't help but hope that he was waiting for me, despite the chaotic start of the day. "Dylan will understand," I reassured myself with a fleeting smile, stealing a moment to compose myself despite my sorry state before hurrying toward him.

However, as I drew near, the warmth in my chest dissipated, replaced by a sinking feeling as I caught the icy glare in Dylan's eyes. His jaw clenched with displeasure, and my heart sank.

"How could you be late today of all days? If it wasn't for my mom, I would forget you even exist," he spat out, his words laced with cold disdain.

"I..." I began, but before I could utter another word, Dylan cut me off with a sharp command.

"Shut it. I don't need your stupid explanations." The tears I had been holding back threatened to spill over as I lowered my head, not wanting Dylan to see the hurt in my eyes.

As Dylan's words settled heavily upon me, I became acutely aware of the eyes of onlookers, their glances filled with curiosity and amusement as they greeted Dylan. "Go get changed into a better dress. I don't need a coward near me," Dylan's cutting words pierced through the air, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable.

With a heavy heart, I watched as Dylan turned and strode back into the hall, leaving me standing there, struggling to hold back the tears that welled up inside.

For four long years, I clung to the hope that Dylan would change, that he would soften and return the love I poured out to him. I believed that if I just loved him more, tolerated him more, and understood his emotions better, he would come around. I tried to be more submissive, and more accommodating, always thinking, "If I do this, things will change. If I do that, he will love me more." But in reality, I was living an "if" life, always waiting for a love that seemed to slip further away with each passing day. Dylan's cutting words and callous actions repeatedly pierced my heart, leaving me shattered and hollow.

"Why me?" I asked myself, my voice barely above a whisper as I reflected on the years of unreciprocated love and emotional turmoil. a life hinges on elusive "ifs" and false hope.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, hoping to find a moment of calm amidst the chaotic emotional storm. The hushed murmurs of the passing guests filled the air, a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. Just as I was about to turn away, a sudden presence made me look up, and there she was Allison, Dylan's ex-girlfriend. Ever since she had saved Dylan from a near-fatal death accident, she had been embraced as a part of the family, a fact that had always left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"What the heck are you wearing?" Allison's disdainful voice cut through the air, her disgusted expression and disapproval as she wrinkled her nose. I met her gaze with a steely silence, unwilling to engage in any unnecessary emotional turmoil on this already trying day. I turned to walk away, determined to distance myself from the unwelcome confrontation.

Before I could take another step, however, Allison seized my arms, her nails digging into my skin, drawing a bead of blood. I recoiled and pushed her away, my voice edged with anger as I demanded,

"What do you want?"

"Allison walked closer, her eyes ablaze with intensity. "I want you out of my man's life," she declared, her words occupied with possessiveness and resentment.

"Your man?" I retorted incredulously, my own frustration bubbling to the surface. "You must be joking, Allison. I am Dylan's legally married wife. You are just his ex, a handed down" I spat out, refusing to let her belittle the significance of my relationship with Dylan.

"A handed down?" Allison's index hand pushed my head backward, her touch forceful and invasive. "I have had enough of you, Charlotte. Dylan doesn't love you, not now, not ever. Try to get the clue, you cheap slut," she spat out, her contemptuous words cutting through the air like a knife. I felt the sting of her accusations, but I couldn't let her words go unchallenged.

"If I wasn't loved, why would he marry me instead of you? He did because you are irrelevant," I retorted, struggling to maintain my composure in the face of her verbal assault.

"He married you because you were his Grandpa's slut and bought your way to him with that," Allison fired back, her words a cruel reminder of the complex dynamics that had shaped my relationship with Dylan.

"I guess he couldn't marry you because you weren't slutty enough," I countered, raising an eyebrow in a calculated display of defiance. Allison advanced toward me and pushed me hard on the chest.

In a sudden surge of emotion, I moved closer and pushed her, my actions fueled by frustration and a desperate need to defend myself. To my surprise, Allison staggered far backward than I had pushed her, her footing faltering suddenly before she crashed into the hotel's large flower vase at the entrance of the hall. The shattering of glass echoed through the space as she let out a piercing scream, I was shocked.

Amid the chaos, I saw Dylan rushing toward her, his expression concerned and urgent.

Dylan helped Allison up as I stood there watching, my heart pounding in my chest. Allison was slightly injured by some of the broken glass, and I felt a sudden pang of guilt and remorse.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Charlotte?" Dylan yelled at me, his voice filled with anger and frustration. I stood there looking at him, feeling ashamed and confused. Before he could approach me in anger, Allison held him back, her face contorted in pain. "Dylan, I need you now more than ever," she cried out, her voice strained with agony.

"You will answer to me, Charlotte!," Dylan pointed his finger at me, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Am I even married?" I asked myself, feeling a surge of loneliness and despair. Dylan had never seemed to support me, always taking the side of his family and even Allison, even when they were in the wrong. I had hoped things would change when we got married, but I had been wrong.

I held my chest, feeling rejection and heartbreak as the guests' eyes bore into me, their silent judgment adding to my pain. Dylan lifted Allison in a bridle style and hurried her away through the hotel door, presumably to a hospital. As they disappeared from view, I felt a sense of isolation and abandonment. It was clear that my hopes for change had been misplaced, and the realization was breaking my heart so….bad.

As I stood there, feeling rejection and heartbreak, the guests turned their attention back to the hall, leaving me feeling utterly alone. Suddenly, a hand grabbed my hair from behind, causing me to lurch forward, struggling to maintain my balance. I looked up in shock, only to find myself face to face with Allison's mom, Grace.

"You jinx! How dare you hurt and bully Allison," she spat, her voice filled with venom as she yanked my hair forcefully. "You will answer to Adaline Harmon, you pig," she snarled, dragging me through the hall towards where Grandma Adaline was sitting.

As we moved through the hall, I could feel everyone's eyes on me, their silent accusations adding to my humiliation. I met Grandma Adaline's gaze, but there was no warmth or understanding there only a cold, unforgiving look that sent a shiver down my spine. All around me, people were whispering and pointing, their attention focused squarely on me, intensifying the sense of shame and isolation that was already consuming me. The grip on my hair was painful, and the public spectacle was too much to bear. With a surge of desperation and shame, I managed to free myself from Grace's grasp and bolted out of the hall, the eyes of the guests burning into my back as I fled, I ran as fast as I could……