Ex - Husband's Late Realization

The silk nightgown felt cool against my skin as I stood beside Alexander in our wedding bed, the dim light casting shadows across his face. This was supposed to be our moment—the beginning of our marriage, however arranged it might be. My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for him, heart pounding with a mixture of duty and something I couldn't quite name.

"Alexander," I whispered, my voice barely audible even in the quiet of our bedroom. "I think we should—"

The door burst open with a dramatic flourish.

"！" I muttered under my breath, my body instantly tensing.

Amani Russell stood in the doorway, her blonde hair perfectly styled despite the late hour, her red lips curved into what might have looked like a friendly smile to anyone who didn't know better. But I knew that smile. I'd seen it eight times already tonight.

"Sorry to interrupt again!" she announced, not sounding sorry at all. "I just had to come celebrate one more time! The wedding was just so beautiful, wasn't it?"

Before either of us could respond, she pulled out her phone, the camera app already open. The red light blinked steadily as she held it up.

"Oh no," I breathed, instinctively clutching my nightgown closer to my body. "Alexander, please—"

"Live from the wedding suite!" Amani's voice became animated as she spoke into the camera. "I'm here with the happy couple on their special night! Let's see how our arranged bride is doing, shall we?"

The camera's lens focused on me, and I could see the comments already flooding in at the bottom of the screen.

"OMG this is SO awkward!"

"Poor girl, look at her face!"

"I feel bad for her but also THIS IS AMAZING CONTENT"

I felt naked under the scrutiny of thousands of strangers, my cheeks burning with humiliation. Alexander stood frozen beside me, his expression unreadable.

"Amani," he said finally, his voice lacking any real authority. "Maybe this isn't the best time—"

"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport!" she laughed, waving her free hand dismissively. "This is a celebration! Sofia doesn't mind, do you?"

Her eyes locked with mine, challenging me to contradict her. The camera zoomed in on my face.

"Please," I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes. "Turn it off."

The comments intensified.

"She's crying! Did you see that?"

"Amani is literally evil but I can't look away"

"This is worse than that viral wedding disaster last month"

I turned to Alexander, my voice breaking. "Alexander, make her stop. This is our wedding night. How can you let her do this?"

His face hardened slightly, and when he spoke, his words cut through me like ice.

"Sofia, you're overreacting. It's just a little celebration. Amani is excited about our happiness."

I stared at him in disbelief, searching his face for any sign that he understood what was happening. There was nothing—just cold indifference.

"She's live-streaming our private moment," I said, my voice trembling. "She's humiliating me in front of thousands of people."

"She's just having fun," he replied dismissively. "You're being too sensitive."

Amani's smirk widened as she continued filming, occasionally narrating my growing distress for her audience. "Our poor Sofia seems a bit overwhelmed by all this attention! Maybe she's not used to being the center of attention?"

I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling smaller with each passing second. The comments kept rolling in, each one a fresh wound.

"Wow, the groom is such a jerk"

"I thought arranged marriages were supposed to be romantic?"

"Someone save this girl!"

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Amani seemed satisfied with the footage she'd gathered. She gave a dramatic sigh and lowered her phone.

"Well, I think we've captured enough of the happy couple's special moment," she announced to her audience. "Tune in tomorrow for more updates!"

She turned to us with a triumphant smile. "That was fun! Don't worry, I'll edit out the boring parts."

As she finally left our bedroom, closing the door behind her, I stood motionless in the center of the room. Alexander cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Well," he said, "that was... enthusiastic of her."

I couldn't speak. The reality of my situation crashed down on me like a physical weight. My husband—my supposed partner—had just allowed another woman to publicly humiliate me on what should have been the most private night of our lives.

Without another word, I gathered my things and walked to the guest room, my grandfather's ring heavy on my finger. As I closed the door behind me, I caught Alexander's confused expression in the mirror.

"He'll never choose me," I whispered to myself, staring at the ring that represented my grandfather's dying wish. "Never."

The night stretched endlessly before me as I sat alone on the guest bed, wondering how I could possibly survive this marriage with any shred of dignity intact.