Chapter 5

A wave of intense nausea hit me.

I rushed to the bathroom, but I could only dry heave.

My phone buzzed again.

It was a Snapchat from Vivian. It was a photo of her and Julian’s fingers intertwined.

During our five years together, Julian had always refused to hold my hand or kiss me.

Whenever I tried to initiate intimacy,

he would gently push me away, saying he wanted to respect me and save it for marriage.

But in reality, he was saving all his intimacy for Vivian.

Then came a voice message, her tone dripping with smugness.

"Oh, Clara, I'm so sorry! I meant to send that to someone else. My hand slipped."

"It's been over a minute, so Snapchat won't let me unsend it. Sorry!"

I recorded a sixty-second voice reply.

Using every vile curse word I knew, I wished those two disgusting pigs a painful death.

Less than a minute after I sent it, a loud, angry pounding shook my door.

I opened it to find Julian, his face dark with fury.

"Do you have any idea how hurtful your words are?!"

"Vivian only has you as a friend. Can't you be a little kinder to her?!"

Hearing his self-righteous accusations, I lost all my sanity.

"Did I lie? Her mother was a home-wrecking mistress, so of course her daughter is—"

Before I could finish, Julian’s palm crashed against my face.

"Clara Miller! Shut up!"

"Vivian’s mother met your dad first! Vivian was born before you!"

"If we're talking about who came first, your mother was the mistress, and you are the bastard!"

The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, but it paled in comparison to the agony in my chest.

I held my burning cheek, staring in absolute disbelief at the man I had loved for seven years.

Julian took a step closer, his eyes cold and mocking.

"So, what are you crying about? Go apologize to Vivian right now!"

I bit my tongue, my voice hoarse.

"You want me to apologize to the woman who stole my fiancé and sent me photos to mock me?"

"Go to hell, Julian. In your dreams!"

Julian let out a cold sneer. "Don't regret this."

By midnight, a massive scandal erupted on social media. Rumors flew that I had a wild sex life and had secretly undergone an abortion six months ago.

The medical records I had signed to protect Vivian became the "indisputable proof" of my loose morals.

The entire internet was screaming abuse at me.

Before I could even draft a response, my door was kicked open by men in dark suits.

My dad stormed in, grabbed my phone, saw my draft statement, and smashed it to pieces.

"Julian was right. You won't behave."

"Since you want to ruin our family's reputation, you can spend some time reflecting on your actions!"

I fought back frantically, my fingernails scratching deep marks into the floorboards,

but I was no match for the professional bodyguards.

In the end, they dragged me back to our estate in the Hamptons and locked me in a room.

Fearing I would do something drastic, my dad forced me to swallow pills that left my limbs weak and useless.

I stared at the framed portrait of my late mother, tears streaming down my face.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so useless."

On the eighth day of my confinement, Vivian walked in, holding a designer bridesmaid dress.

"Clara, we promised each other when we were kids. Whoever got married first, the other would be the maid of honor."

"So, you'll do this for me, right?"

My instinct was to scream at her.

But looking at my dad and Julian standing right behind her, I forced a fake smile.

"Of course. I wish you both the best."

The wedding venue was lavish, drowning in the scent of fresh roses.

It was exactly the grand wedding I had always dreamed of.

My dad stood at the altar, smiling from ear to ear.

He leaned in and whispered to me, "Clara, make sure you give your sister a beautiful toast later. Let’s put this whole drama behind us."

I nodded submissively.

"I will. I actually prepared a very special wedding gift for her."

My dad waved his hand, dismissing me to go get it.

Taking advantage of the distraction, I slipped away and climbed up to the high balcony overlooking the outdoor venue.

After being betrayed by love, friendship, and family,

I didn't want to live anymore.

But if I was going down, I was going to leave them a gift they would never forget.

Below me, the officiant’s voice boomed through the speakers: "You may now kiss the bride."

At that exact, spotlighted moment, I whispered into the empty air.

"Mom, I'm coming to see you."

I closed my eyes and jumped.

Amidst the collective, blood-curdling screams of the guests, I crashed violently onto the center of the stage.