CHAPTER THREE

I knelt on the elevator floor, desperately trying to gather my parents' ashes with trembling hands.

"Viola, get up. You're embarrassing yourself. People are going to think something's wrong with you. This is exactly why I can't take you anywhere these days." Brian hissed through clenched teeth.

I looked up at him through tears. "Something is wrong! My parents' ashes are all over this dirty floor! How can you just stand there?"

The elevator doors opened, and an elderly couple stepped back in shock when they saw me on my knees.

"Is she okay?" the woman asked Brian.

Brian flashed his charming smile. "She's fine. Just having one of her episodes. My poor fiancée has... issues." He tapped his temple meaningfully. "We're taking care of her."

The woman's eyes widened as she pulled her husband back. "Let's wait for the next one, dear."

As the doors closed, Vanessa's voice cut through my sobs.

"Just look at what you've done. You've made a complete scene, and now poor Brian has to explain your behavior to strangers. How many more times must he apologize for you, Viola? How much more can you put him through?"

Brian stepped out of the elevator when it reached the lobby, careful not to disturb Vanessa. "Viola, we're leaving. Come now or find your own way home."

"I'm staying," I whispered, still trying to scoop the ashes into the broken urn.

Brian shrugged. "Suit yourself."

I stayed behind, trying to salvage what little I could of my parents' remains, but it was useless. Most had disappeared between the elevator cracks or been trampled into dust. Eventually, I dragged myself out of the hospital and took a cab home.

The apartment was quiet when I arrived. I went straight to our bedroom and pulled out my largest suitcase. Enough was enough. I couldn't take this anymore.

I was folding the last of my clothes when I heard the front door open.

"Viola? Are you home?" Brian called out.

I wiped my tears quickly and stepped into the living room. Brian was alone, his face arranged in an expression of concern.

"Baby, I'm so sorry about what happened," he said, rushing to embrace me. "I should have been more understanding. I know how much that urn meant to you."

I stood stiffly in his arms, not returning the hug.

"You're still upset, I can tell," he sighed, pulling back to look at me. "But it was just a vase, Viola. We can get you another one. A better one—gold-plated, even! Your parents would want you to move on."

Before I could respond, his phone rang. He stepped away to answer it.

"Hey, what's up?... Yeah, she's here... Did she what?... Her stupid ashes?" His voice dropped to a whisper, but I could still hear him. "Don't worry about it. I'll handle her."

He hung up and turned back to me with a plastered smile. "That was Vanessa. She's feeling much better now and wanted to apologize about your vase. Isn't she considerate? You'll forgive her, right?"

"I've already forgiven her," I lied.

"Great!" Brian clapped his hands together. "Listen, there's this party tonight at The Sapphire. Let's go—it'll help clear your head. I want to make everything up to you."

Two hours later, we arrived at what was clearly not a small get-together but an elaborate event at a luxury hotel. The moment we walked in, I noticed people staring at us—or rather, at me.

"Your dress looks familiar," a woman whispered to her friend. "Isn't that the same pattern Vanessa is wearing?"

"God, she's such a copycat," another person murmured. "No wonder he's clinging to Vanessa instead."

"I heard she can't even keep her job," someone else said. "That's why he's paying for everything."

"She's so plain next to Vanessa. Like a cheap knockoff."

"I heard she trapped him after his best friend died."

I looked down at my dress—a simple blue design Brian bought at a department store. As we moved further into the hall, I spotted Vanessa wearing an identical dress, except hers was clearly designer, with good beadwork and superior fabric. I suddenly realized why Brian had insisted I wear this particular dress.

"You knew," I whispered to him. "You knew she'd be here wearing the same dress."

Brian's grip tightened on my arm. "Don't start. We're here to have fun."

Vanessa spotted us and rushed over, greeting Brian with a lingering kiss on the lips.

"Thank God you made it! Thank you for helping me decorate this hall earlier for my birthday."

Birthday? I turned to Brian in confusion.

Vanessa hugged me next, her expensive perfume suffocating. "Thank you for coming, Viola. It means so much to have you here!"

So while I had been mourning my parents' ashes, Brian had been here helping Vanessa decorate for her birthday party. He'd told me we were going for a simple night out—not that we were attending the birthday celebration of the woman who had pushed me through a glass table this morning.

I watched in horror as Brian wrapped his arm around Vanessa's waist. "You look stunning tonight," he whispered, loud enough for me to hear.

Vanessa giggled, pressing herself against him. "You already told me that when you helped me zip up this dress."

I stood there, invisible, as they continued their intimate conversation. When Brian's hand slid down to Vanessa's waist, pulling her closer, I walked away toward the bar.

"Vodka, neat," I told the bartender, fighting back tears.

"Make that two."

I turned to find Vanessa standing beside me, a cruel smile playing on her lips.

"You know, Viola," she said, taking the drink from the bartender, "I've always wondered what Brian saw in you. You're so... ordinary."

"What do you want from me, Vanessa?"

"I want you gone." Her smile disappeared. "Brian and I have been together for over a year now. The only reason he hasn't left you is because he feels sorry for you—poor, orphaned Viola with nowhere to go."

"You're sick, Vanessa."

Her eyes flashed with rage. "And you're pathetic. Still hanging on when he's made it clear who he wants."

She picked up a glass of red wine. "Here's a little birthday gift from me to you."

Before I could move, she tipped the glass, spilling wine all down the front of my dress.

CHAPTER FOUR

The cold red wine seeped through my dress, clinging to my skin. I gasped, jumping back as people around us turned to stare.

"How dare you!" I shouted, my voice trembling.

Vanessa's eyes widened with fake innocence. "It was an accident!"

Before I could respond, she grabbed another glass from a passing waiter and poured it over her own identical dress.

"Oh no! Look what happened to me too!" she wailed dramatically.

I stood frozen, confusion washing over me. Why would she ruin her own expensive dress?

Brian rushed over, his face filled with anger. "What's going on here?"

"Viola pushed me!" Vanessa sobbed, throwing herself into his arms. "She ruined my dress because she was jealous that mine is designer and hers is cheap!"

"What? That's not true!" I protested. "She poured wine on me first!"

The crowd that had gathered around us began whispering. I could hear their judgments.

"Poor Vanessa..."

"That Viola is so jealous..."

"I heard she's been harassing Vanessa for months..."

Brian's eyes narrowed as he looked at me. "How could you do this? On her birthday?"

"Brian, please! She's lying! I didn't…"

"Enough!" he shouted, silencing me. "You've been acting crazy all day. First the scene at the hospital, now this?"

Vanessa buried her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking with fake sobs. "I just wanted us all to have a nice time..."

"I know, baby, I know," Brian cooed, stroking her hair. He turned to me, his voice cold. "You couldn't stand that her dress was better than yours, could you? You had to ruin it if you couldn't have the expensive one."

"That's ridiculous!" I cried. "She's manipulating you!"

"The only one manipulating anyone is you," he hissed. "You've been trying to make Vanessa look bad since the moment you met her."

"You're choosing to believe her over me? After seven years together?"

"Seven years of what, Viola? Seven years of your constant neediness? Your jealousy? Your pathetic attempts to compete with Vanessa?"

Each word was like a knife to my heart.

"You know what?" Brian continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "I'm tired of making excuses for you. Tonight was supposed to be special for Vanessa, and you've ruined it—just like you ruin everything!"

Vanessa pretended to sway on her feet. "I feel faint," she whimpered.

"I've got you, sweetheart," Brian said, lifting her into his arms. He turned to me one last time. "Don't bother coming home tonight. I'll be comforting Vanessa."

As they walked away, I heard him whisper to her, "I'm sorry she ruined your birthday. I'll buy you a new dress—anything you want."

I stood there, wine dripping from my ruined dress, as the crowd parted for them. The whispers followed me as I stumbled out of the party, humiliation burning my cheeks.

When I finally made it back to our apartment, I went straight to the bedroom and pulled out my suitcase. This time, I was really leaving.

My phone buzzed with a notification. It was Vanessa's social media update:

"His stupid fiancée tried to ruin my expensive dress out of jealousy, but my Brian is getting me a new one—even more beautiful than before! Can't wait to wear the wedding dress we picked out last month! #FutureMrsHuntington #CountdownToForever"

The post included photos of Vanessa trying on wedding dresses, with Brian smiling beside her in several pictures. The dates on the posts showed they were taken weeks ago.

My heart shattered as I scrolled through them. They had been planning this wedding while I was still wearing his engagement ring. While I was still cooking his meals and washing his clothes.

My phone buzzed with a message from Brian:

"Sorry about my outburst and making you feel disgraced. I've ordered that expensive case for your parents' ashes. Bringing it home soon. We can talk when I get back."

I deleted his number without replying. Then I reached into my purse and pulled out the divorce papers my lawyer had prepared earlier that week. I signed them and left them on the kitchen counter with my engagement ring on top.

As I was about to leave, I noticed a small package on the coffee table. It was a wedding invitation—for Brian and Vanessa's wedding. Next month.

So this was their plan all along. Push me out just before their wedding. Make me look unstable so no one would believe me when I told the truth.

I grabbed my suitcase and took one last look around the apartment that had been my prison for seven years. Then I walked out, closing the door behind me forever.

At the airport, I clutched my ticket—one-way to Paris. The weight of seven wasted years finally lifted from my shoulders as I walked through the terminal.

"Miss? Your boarding pass?" the attendant asked.

I handed it over with a smile. "Thank you."

As I settled into my seat, I looked out the window at the city lights below. You took everything from me, Brian. Now watch me build an empire that will bring you to my knees.