Chapter 3 Truth

Bernice

As I turned around, the figure of Fed came into view. He stood there, his tall and imposing frame casting a shadow under the lights.

His features, usually handsome and chiseled, were etched with severity. His lips were pressed into a hard line, betraying his displeasure. His eyes, those deep blue pools I once adored, were as cold as frost, devoid of any warmth.

At the sight of Fed, Melissa quickly masked her malevolence with a visage of distress. Tears streamed down her face, each one a perfect droplet of manipulation.

"Fed, I'm so sorry," she whimpered, her voice trembling. "I didn't mean to... to ruin Bernice's dress. I was only trying to help, but I didn't expect her to react like this."

Fed's gaze shifted from Melissa's disheveled appearance to me, his scrutinizing look causing a suffocating sensation. He was a man accustomed to control, and any deviation from his expectations would sour his mood.

"Bernice, what have you done?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with a biting edge. "You've embarrassed us in front of all these guests."

"Fed, I didn't push her," I took a deep breath, striving to keep my voice steady, "Melissa was the one who—"

"Enough!" Fed interrupted me, his voice rising slightly, "I don't want to hear any more excuses. You should apologize to Melissa right now."

I looked at Melissa, who was regarding Fed with an innocent gaze, as if to say, "See, I knew she would deny it."

Rage simmered beneath my surface, but I knew I couldn't lose control in front of Fed. Not again.

With a touch of mockery, I smiled, "Apologize for what? It was an accident. If Melissa hadn't tried to pull me toward the cake, none of this would have happened. I think many witnesses saw it all."

Fed was displeased with my response; he was used to the Bernice who acquiesced to his authority. Sadly for him, that Bernice no longer existed.

Fed raised his voice, "I didn't expect you to be so mean, Bernice! Melissa is your sister! Even if she makes a few mistakes, can't you show some understanding?"

Wrapped in Fed's coat, Melissa kept her head down, but I saw a smug smile playing at the corners of her lips.

A mix of anger and irony swirled within me. This scene, these words, they were all too familiar. I should have realized long ago that no matter what Melissa did, Fed always took her side.

Melissa's words rang true-she and Fed had known each other long before our marriage. The sweet nothings and promises he'd whispered to me before our wedding were nothing more than lies to trick me into saying "I do." That's why his patience wore thin after our marriage, and why he discarded me once I no longer served his purposes.

My marriage to Fed was a complete sham.

I let out a cold laugh, "Fed, if you care so much about Melissa, why didn't you choose her as your wife four years ago?"

"Mind your words, Bernice. I treat Melissa like a sister," Fed hissed, his grip on my shoulder tightening. "Enough of the crazy talk. You should know your place."

A total liar. The feeling of disgust churned in my stomach. I felt pity for my past self. Clenching my fists, I shook his hand from my shoulder, "Lies can never be truth, Fed. I hope you understand that."

"Oh dear, my head feels so dizzy," Fed opened his mouth to reply, but Melissa leaned into him.

"Deal with the mess you've made. I'm taking Melissa to the hospital." Fed cast a cold glance my way before turning and leaving the banquet hall with Melissa in tow.

After the gala ended, I found myself walking alone into the garden outside the banquet hall.

In the end, it fell to me to host the gala alone, as Fed was absent for the rest of the event. This was his way of "punishing" me after our arguments, leaving me without a word from him for days. He wanted me to feel insecure, abandoned, and then beg for his mercy. It was a tactic he'd used frequently in the last year of my previous life.

I let out a sigh, feeling the tightness in my throat as sorrow threatened to overwhelm me once more. Fed treated me like a disposable commodity, and the pain of his manipulation was a wound that wouldn't heal.

This has to end, I told myself.

"Where do you think you're going, Bernie? If you pull another solo act, you'll lose me as a friend!" Cathy suddenly appeared from behind me.

She had been waiting for me.

A warm feeling welled up inside me, leading me to do something I wouldn't normally do - I hugged her tightly. It was hard to explain, but in my past life, I'd almost lost Cathy, obsessed as I was with catering to Fed's every need. Fed didn't like Cathy, and I was forced to distance myself from her, hurting her feelings towards me. Seeing the sexy woman with red curls again, I realized how much I'd missed her.

Cathy stiffened in my embrace before wriggling out, "What's going on! Are you my little slut Bernie?"

I laughed, "Yes, I'm your little slut Bernie, whore!"

Cathy's shocking expression only made me laugh harder. It felt good to be carefree, even if just for a moment.

"Bernie, something's definitely up," Cathy said, her eyes narrowing. "Spill it. Every detail."

I sighed, the weight of my situation making it hard to speak. "So much has happened, Cathy. I don't even know where to begin."

"Did Fed mistreat you? That jerk! I always told you not to marry him!" Cathy grabbed my arm, searching for signs of abuse.

"No, Cathy. He didn't hit me. I just feel... foolish for wasting so much time on a loveless marriage," I admitted, biting my lip.

Cathy's eyes twinkled. "I know just the place to fix marriage troubles. Want to go?"

I eyed her skeptically, "Really?"

Cathy's Porsche was as red as her curly hair. We sped off, the wind in our hair like we were back in our carefree college days. But I wasn't prepared for where Cathy's "solution to marriage troubles" led us - straight to a male strip club.

Typical Cathy.

I sat at the bar, my cheeks flushed as I watched five dancers on stage. They wore revealing clothes, or rather, nearly naked, dancing provocatively, each move eliciting screams and cheers from the audience. I admired how Cathy could enjoy all this, but when I saw her stuffing a bill into one of the dancers' G-strings, my lips twitched involuntarily.

Feeling awkward, I clutched my wine glass, trying to appear less... novice. But with my upbringing to be demure and elegant, places like this were utterly alien to me.

Cathy emerged from the dance floor and sat beside me. There was a teasing glint in her eyes. "Bernie, relax. Fed won't know you've been here."

"No, Cathy, it's not about Fed. " I took a sip of wine and shook my head, "I don't care what he thought. I've decided, I'm going to divorce him." My voice was firm, the first time I'd articulated my decision so clearly.

Cathy's eyes widened dramatically, clearly taken aback by my words.

"Divorce?!!!"