Chapter 2

Julia’s POV

Alex was furious. His eyes, cold and sharp, glinted with the kind of rage that only comes from having one’s ego bruised. The tendons on his neck tightened, and his jaw clenched so hard I could almost hear his teeth grinding. His nostrils flared slightly as he glared at me, struggling to comprehend how I had the audacity to throw a cake at him. A bead of icing slid down his pristine suit jacket and his hands curled into fists at his sides. The anger in his expression burned with one question: How dare she?

But I dared, and I didn’t regret it.

Before Alex could spit out whatever venomous words he had brewing, my stepmother, Scarlett’s fingers latched onto my arm, dragging me out of the hall. Her grip was firm, desperate. I could see the alarm in her eyes as she led me down a quiet corridor, away from the horrified murmurs of the gathered guests.

“Are you out of your mind?” she hissed, her voice trembling with barely contained panic. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

I shrugged her hand off and turned to face her, crossing my arms defiantly. “Yes. For once, I do.”

Her gaze softened into something like pity, although it was layered with her usual condescension. “Listen to me,” she said, smoothing down the front of her dress as if to compose herself. “This… this is nothing, alright? It’s just cake. You can eat it off the ground if you have to. It’s not worth making a scene over.”

I recoiled, disgusted. “Eat it off the ground?” My voice rose with incredulity. “Do you even hear yourself?”

She sighed, exasperated. “You’ve done worse to make him happy before. Don’t pretend this is some moral high ground now. Just go back in there, apologize, and fix this.”

Fix it. Always fixing things to keep the peace, to keep him happy. I could feel the bitter memories rising like bile in my throat. All the times I had swallowed my pride, compromised my dignity, and endured his cold indifference for the sake of this sham of love. And for what? To be publicly humiliated. 

I remember that night, Alex sat at the edge of our bed, his voice calm, detached, as he asked me to leave the room because his lover, Caleste would be spending a night with him. She sleeps in my matrimonial bed with my husband while I most times sleep in the store.

As if that weren’t enough, the next morning, he handed me her dress and asked me to wash it and I did. Those happened in the past now, the weak me and not anymore.

Scarlette’s voice softened, pleading now. “Don’t throw everything away over something so small. You’ve worked so hard to get where you are. You’ve endured so much for this. Don’t let one impulsive act ruin it all.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes.

Her lips tightened into a thin line, her silence confirming what I already knew. She knew. Of course, she knew. She always knew, but she never cared. For her, my marriage to Alex would bring benefits to the family company, and then the company would belong to her and her son.

My feelings, happiness, were expendable as long as the marriage was maintained. 

I turned on my heel and started back toward the hall, ignoring her frantic whispers behind me. “Wait! Don’t make another mess  in there. You will regret it.”

Regret? The only regret I had was not standing up for myself in my past life.

As I pushed open the double doors to the grand hall, a hush fell over the crowd. All eyes turned to me, their gazes heavy with expectation. They expected an apology, lowering my head, swallowing my pride, and beg for forgiveness as usual.

Alex stood at the center of the room, still seething, his arms crossed as he waited for my groveling apology. His expression was smug now, confident that I would fall back in line like I always had.

I walked toward him slowly, deliberately. My heart was pounding, but not with fear. It was resolve. I stopped a few feet away from him and looked him directly in the eye.

He stepped closer, his both hands in his pockets, his voice dropping even lower, filled with menace. “You are here to crawl back to me in apology? You always do.” 

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Go ahead, throw all the cake you want. It won’t make a difference.”

He leaned in, his eyes boring into mine. “And that’s why I’ll always win.”

Then he stepped back, brushing the cake off his shirt with disgust. “Now clean this up.” He added. 

Everyone waited, breathless, for me to bow my head. Instead, I straightened my shoulders and spoke, my voice clear and steady.

“I am withdrawing from this marriage.” 

Gasps rippled through the crowd like a wave. Alex’s expression morphed from a mocking anger to shock, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for words.

I tilted my head, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of my lips. 

Everyone froze mid-sip of their champagne, their murmurs silenced.

“I no longer want to be his wife” I announced again. standing straighter than I ever had.

He took a step forward, crossed his hands against each other and exhaled slowly. I could feel the pressure of the moment tightening around me. 

His brows furrowed in disbelief flashing in his eyes as he let out a short chuckle. He shook his head as if trying to comprehend the words I had just said. 

“You are backing out of this marriage?” He stepped toward me, not threatening, but challenging. I could feel the heat of his anger building.

I looked Alex in the eyes. “Yes,” I replied. His expression shifted for a moment—then it was gone, replaced by that mocking grin of his.

He threw his head back and laughed, loud and unrestrained. “Oh, come on,” he scoffed, still chuckling. “You think I don’t know what this is about? You can’t even imagine a life without me. You’ve been dying to be my wife, and now you’re going to throw it all away? Please. You think you can just walk out and leave everything behind? You can’t survive it you know? You will definitely die of a heart attack while thinking about me.”  He sneered.

I felt my face flush anger and humiliation, but he wasn’t done. He stepped closer, his voice dripping with condescension. “You’ll come crawling back. You always do. You don’t want to leave me. You never have.” He paused, his eyes gleaming with amusement, before his words dropped lower, almost a taunt. “You’ll miss me too much.”

I stood there, frozen, as he laughed again, a cruel, hollow sound.

Before I could respond, there was a soft sound of footsteps, a faint shuffling of feet. My attention snapped behind, and I saw her—Celeste—standing there. Dressed in long luxury pink gown, pink silver heel, a long hair tied up which dropped down and a light makeup. Flawless skin and beautifully curved. Who wouldn’t love such an epitome of beauty?

“I… I don’t want to ruin your wedding,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, breaking the tension. She took a small, hesitant step forward, wringing her hands together as if she were trying to hold herself together.

I couldn’t tell if she was being sincere or if this was just a performance.

“Celeste, you’re not going to ruin anything,” I said flatly, trying not to let my frustration seep through. “The wedding was a mistake long before.” 

Alex’s face hardened, and for a moment, I thought he might lash out. Instead, he let out a humorless laugh, his eyes darting back to Celeste with that same coldness that had been there since the start.

“My love, just stop,” he said, his voice laced with irritation. “You’re not ruining anything.” He replied and planted a kiss on her forehead. 

 He didn’t look at me directly, but his voice was calm, controlled, and devoid of any sympathy.

“Listen,” she began, her voice soft but firm. “You shouldn’t leave Alex because of me. This… this isn’t what I wanted.”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. 

“Enough!” I interrupted, my voice firmer now. 

Celeste flinched but I didn’t care. 

She opened her mouth, probably to argue or justify, but I didn’t give her the chance. “This marriage no longer exists,” I said coldly. “And honestly? You two are perfect for each other—a match made in hell. An asshole and a bitch. Fitting each other. Enjoy your dumpster fire of a relationship.” 

With that, I walked away. I could also feel the glances of everyone who remained speechless.