Emily's pov

His look of utter confusion might have been mildly amusing if I weren't insanely furious. The lines of stupidification written all over his face told me that in his wildest dreams, he did not expect me to place divorce on the table, even after seeing him pushing his tongue into my younger sister's mouth.

He finally pulls away from Becky; "Sweetheart, why don't you give us some time alone? Go fix yourself a sandwich in the kitchen?"

I watched the two of them with my jaw on the floor. Mixing with my rage was shock. This was not the man I had married; the man I married had no idea how to be sweet or romantic. He was blunt and irritable at every turn, or maybe... Just maybe he was that way with me because he never liked me, not to mention love.

It took all the patience inside of me to wait until Becky was done whining, and finally let just the two of us discuss.

Good!

I don't think I would have been able to handle both at the same time.

"When did it start?" I asked. My voice felt like it was echoing out of an empty shell.

Brad brushed his fingers through his hair excessively, as if he were trying to rake out another lie from his scalp.

"Look, I never meant for it to happen... It started a year ago because of a project at the company. I was really working overtime, and that project just happened to be with Becky's company too... So since it was a partnership, we ended up talking late into the night to distract ourselves from the heavy workload."

.

It was supposed to be an apology, but yet it sounded more like he was recreating the most romantic story in his head.

"... I really don't know what happened. When I noticed that I was attracted to her, I did my best to resist... But you know how our marriage has been for a long time now."

"And whose fault is that?" I screamed at the top of my voice. "I was always trying to talk with you... To plan something with you, to be with you! But you rejected me at every turn, didn't you?"

He looked at me with genuine confusion as if I had just switched into a different language without giving him a heads up. Then he continued talking without even considering what I said.

"Like I was saying before, I really tried to resist, but before I knew it, we started going out together after work hours, and even after the project ended, I still wanted to see her, to be with her. And we only started sleeping together five months ago."

Gosh! I was so shocked! He was so confident saying these words like they were meant to make me feel good.

He said the last part like I was supposed to throw my hands up in bountiful joy.

"I'm so flattered," I sneered at him sarcastically. "You were cheating on me emotionally for an entire year, but only recently decided to start cheating physically. How did I ever get so lucky?"

The veins on his forehead became visible, and he stood upright in one sharp, fluid motion.

"Well, if you were half the woman that your sister was, then maybe I wouldn't have to cheat!"

My throat nearly closed up when he said that. It felt like a sharp sword had been pierced through my side. I staggered to the nearest couch to avoid a heavy fall. He knew that most of my self-esteem issues took root from my parents' blatant favoritism of my younger sister, Becky.

Back then, he promised me that it would never be the case, that I would be his only flower, but his words and actions had never aligned. Yet, I cared about him and kept on with the relationship, hoping that one day, they would.

So stupid.

"I've heard all I need to hear... Let's discuss how we're going to go about the divorce," I said, finally taking a seat on the couch I was just leaning on.

"What do you mean by divorce?"

Hearing that question, two thoughts popped up in my mind. Firstly, I married someone whose IQ was below room temperature, and secondly, he was testing the last bit of my patience before I'd crash out.

"Do I have to get the dictionary and explain what divorce is to you? Fine, I want to legally separate from you, Braden Winchester Junior," I said his full name with disgust tainting my lips. "Since it's clear that it's my sister who makes you happy, then there is no need for me to keep wasting my time anymore, and yours as well."

He started giving me this funny look like there was a horn growing on the side of my head.

"Why would we have to divorce just because I made a mistake?" He looked like a confused toddler who had just spoken his first words, except he wasn't a toddler. He was a full-grown man in his late 20s and should have known better.

"No, Brad... The mistake, the true mistake, was me ever getting married to you when I knew deep down that you hated me to your core." I reached for the Ring on my finger, and his eyes bulged out.

"What are you doing?" He screamed, but I ignored him, tightening my grip on the ring as I twisted it back and forward. It was a hard fight, but I came out victorious, pulling it off my finger.

It fell on the floor, and I didn't bother picking it up. I passed it towards him with my foot, watching his every reaction.

I stood up to leave, swinging my hand back and forth because it hadn't felt lighter in years.

"Emily, you can't just..."

I slammed the door behind me as I was already tired of listening to his crap story.

Leaving home wasn't a big deal. Where do I go?

That was the real issue.

Emily's pov

I moved in with Wendy, but that was supposed to be a temporary measure. I thought that after the divorce, from my own fifty percent, I could get my own decent apartment and get back on my feet. Wendy recommended a good lawyer. He was a cousin of hers and a nice guy; plump, with thick frames and a burning sense of justice.

He told me that the affair Brad had would give me a sure advantage. For the first few months of the divorce proceedings, Brad was suspiciously docile and understanding. Of course, that did not make me want to take him back, but rather, I was on my guard knowing that he would definitely pull something.

Then, after another hectic day in court, I stepped out with a smirk on my face, knowing that soon I would be officially severed from that man forever and with enough cash to keep me afloat for a while. Wendy had suggested that we go on a girls' trip. I agreed as I hadn't been on a proper outing all along because Brad would always be waiting back at home, ready to scream in my ear about how we were going to go bankrupt soon. He made me believe that only sluts went out without their boyfriend or husband.

Eventually, I started turning down every invitation to hang out until nobody other than Wendy bothered contacting me.

"Who knows?" Wendy said with a teasing nudge. "Maybe you might just run into BlueHaven guy again?"

My fingers froze, reaching for the passenger seat door.

Instantly, my whole face turned red, remembering the electric kiss that I shared with a stranger.

"We'll see," I responded, looking forward to my single life again.

"Emily!" I heard Brad calling my name. Wendy looked half ready to cause a scene, but I didn't want her to do that, especially while we were still close to the courtroom.

"Just get in the car, Wendy," I advised. "I'll join you in a minute."

I approached Brad before he could reach us. He was sweating by the time he stopped in front of me. He then wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and I just watched him patiently with my hands akimbo.

"If you're going to say something, then you should just get on with it. I don't have all the time in the world."

His jaw clenched.

"You become quite full of yourself, haven't you?" He remarked spitefully. "Don't forget that I know everything about you." He leaned closer and whispered, "Everything."

I stretched out my arm, forcing some distance between us.

"Would it kill you not to be an ass-hole for two seconds?" I run my fingers through my hair, "Why am I even listening to you? I don't care what you know as long as you stay away from me after the divorce. Believe it or not, I'm not going back to that life, Brad."

He tightened his fist.

"We already have a life together. You are the one who is selfishly throwing it all away because of one little mistake."

I opened my mouth, almost about to speak. I curled my lips shut again, resigned not to waste anymore words on this man. It wasn't bad enough that he was the one who wrecked everything, but he was so bent on pushing all the blame to me.

I moved my legs towards Wendy's car, trying to reach it. But then I felt Brad's strong grip on my arm, dragging me back. I shrugged him off, and he grew more annoyed.

"I'll give you by the end of today, Emily..." He said with a stern tone. "Come back to me. Get rid of all this divorce nonsense, and I'll forgive you for everything. We can go back to normal..."

What did he mean by normal? The awful treatment? Eating cold suppers because I always had to wait for him? Was that the 'normal' he was talking about?

"No, thanks, but I'm good," I finally mouthed.

I walked faster this time so he couldn't catch up to me.

That night, I ignored his warning, wondering what he could possibly do to hurt me.

The next morning, I woke up to my mother's voice screaming the roof down. In panic, I slipped on my flip flops and ran to the living room in my pajamas, where Wendy was trying and failing to calm my mother down. Behind her was my Dad, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Mom, what's going on?" I asked, my voice itched with concern. With her phone in one hand, she decorated my left cheek with a thunderous slap. It hurt so bad that I tasted blood in my mouth.

I looked up at my mom with disbelief. Not sure of what to say, as if I had undergone a factory reset.

"Mom?" I asked, flustered and worried.

"Did you think that nobody would find out?" She said with steam shooting out of her ears, "You were parading around like a hypocrite, accusing your sister of being a homewrecker when you were something so much worse than that."

Wendy tried to get between me and my mom so that she wouldn't have the chance to hit me again. While I was still trying to recuperate from the first slap, my mom flashed her phone screen on my face.

My jaw dropped.

What I saw did more damage than a mere slap.

I could hear my brain, chorusing, "Ground, open and swallow me up."

Emily's POV

I could hear my brain chorusing, "Ground open and swallow me up." as I stared at the screen.

On the screen were pictures and videos of me, dancing at the strip club party, wearing barely anything.

My heart dropped so fast I thought I might actually throw up. Was this real?

I looked at the name of the poster 'Braden .W. Junior' Brad really did do this.

He actually posted them on the internet. Gosh, it felt like I couldn't breathe.

"You see?" Mom hissed, shoving the phone in my face. "You're all over the internet. Disgusting."

"You're a disgrace. A disgrace to me, to our family and to everyone around you." She spat.

"Mom," I whispered, my throat aching. "You know the reason I-"

"Gosh," she cut me off harshly. "I can't believe I even gave birth to you."

My chest ached.

"You see," she went on, "this is the difference between you and Becky. Becky would never do such a thing."

Her words stung more than anything Brad could've done. I just stood there, staring at the screen, and at the disgusted look on her face.

Her eyes swept over me from head to toe like I was some kind of rotten fruit. Dad didn't say a word, he just glared at me with disgust. And then, without another word, the two of them stormed out, slamming the door behind them.

I dropped to the ground, my knees hitting the floor hard, but I didn't care. The tears came hysterically.

Wendy rushed to me, holding my shoulders.

"Hey, it's okay. Okay? Don't let what they say get to you."

"How am I supposed to, Wendy?" I choked out between sobs. "How am I going to erase this disgrace? You know why I did what I did!"

Wendy's eyes softened. "We know, Emily. I know. Even your parents know. Brad is just being evil. Don't let him get to you."

But I couldn't stop crying. The humiliation and betrayal was too much.

Yes, I had worked as a stripper. For a couple of weeks or so. But it wasn't because I wanted to. I was the one paying my way through school. I needed the money. My grandmother's health had started failing around that time, and everything was falling apart.

And Brad had begged me for money to start his stupid business. I helped him. I did that for him too, to raise some capital. He literally took 60% of the money I made from that. And now he had the guts to post this, to destroy me like this?

"Gosh... Brad is a monster," I whispered, wiping my face with the back of my trembling hand.

"Stop crying," Wendy said gently, pulling me up from the floor. She guided me toward the dining table and made me sit down. "I'll make you something to eat."

I watched her walk to the kitchen, the sound of drawers opening and the clinking of utensils filling the silence. I just sat there, feeling empty and devastated.

My hands clenched around the edge of the table as tears burned behind my eyes again.

A few minutes later, Wendy placed a plate of food in front of me. Steam rose from it, but I couldn't move.

"Stop crying, Emily," she said softly, sitting across from me. "Stop crying, okay? Fuck him. Don't let him get to you."

I lifted my gaze to her, her expression was filled with concern.

"He's done his worst," she continued. "He posted the stupid videos and pictures, fine. Let him. Relax, okay? Move on. Don't let him define you. You are strong and beautiful. And Brad..." she exhaled, shaking her head, "Brad will regret what he did to you."

....

It had been three weeks since that day and honestly, it's been hell.

I had been going from company to company, dropping applications, attending interviews, hoping someone would just give me a chance. But every single time, it ended the same way. Rejection.

Apparently, the video was everywhere. No matter where I went, people had seen it. They didn't see me as Emily anymore, they saw me as that girl. The stripper.

Each rejection hurt badly. They all said the same thing in different words, that I was "irresponsible," "not fit for the company's image," and that they couldn't have "someone like me" working for them.

Even some girls from college who were always jealous of me for my grades, joined in on the mockery. They laughed behind my back, sent me screenshots, whispered when I passed by. It was their turn to shine, finally having something to throw at me.

It was painful. So painful that, at one point, I didn't even want to step outside. I just wanted to hide.

But Wendy wouldn't let me. She told me hiding wouldn't take the videos down or change anything. That I had to face it, no matter how hard it was.

So, that's what I was trying to do.

I sat nervously in front of the manager at the latest company I'd applied to. It was a woman, probably in her forties. I passed the first interview. She had even told me to come back today for the final phase.

"I'm sorry, Miss," she said, avoiding my eyes. "We can't accept you for this job."

My heart sank. "But ma'am, why not? You looked at my CV, you said I had all the qualifications, and you even asked me to come back for the final stage. Why are you turning me down now?"

She sighed, finally meeting my gaze. "I'm sorry. That was before I figured out... about your video. I can't accept someone like you."

The words hit me with great force, I felt my head spin. I didn't even realize when a tear rolled down my cheek. I tried to blink it back, but it was useless.

"Miss, please," I said, my voice trembling. "I promise, that video and those pictures... They're from my past. My ex-husband put them out there to get revenge on me because I asked for a divorce. Please. I was in a really bad place. I needed money. That was the only reason I did it."

She just looked at me, her expression blank like I was talking rubbish.

"I promise I'm responsible," I continued, my words coming out too fast. "That's my past. I'm sorry, Miss, but please just give me a chance."

She sighed softly and shook her head. "I'm sorry. But we just can't. Look, my company means a lot to me. It's my source of income. And my workers need to be eloquent, responsible, and have a good name."

"I'm sorry," she repeated, avoiding my eyes. "I can't accept someone like you. Please leave. Let me attend to the next person."