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Moving On Novel Cover

Moving On

On the first night of their marriage, a young bride's world shatters during a shocking confrontation at their hotel. When her husband demands the manager clean their room, the woman breaks down, revealing herself as his grieving ex-girlfriend. The situation turns violent when the manager hurls a kettle of hot water at the bride. Instead of helping his injured wife, the husband pursues his ex, forcing the protagonist to question the truth behind their relationship.
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Chapter 3

I could no longer hold back my tears. "No. I'm not okay. I'm not okay at all."

I felt that I had lost my mind as I cried my heart out in front of two strangers.

There was no denying I was in a very bad state of mind.

If Jason were here, I would tell him that I was scared and that it was hurting where I was scalded, but he was not here.

He broke his promise on the first day of our marriage. He neither protected me nor showed up beside me at my saddest moments.

The janitor patted my back gently and said, "It's okay to let it out."

When she patted me on the shoulder, my pain drew out an ugly wince.

The janitor was startled. "Are you hurt?"

The two of them immediately brought me to the bathroom after lifting my shirt collar and seeing what had happened. They ran cold water over my shoulders and asked another colleague to get some ointment for my burns.

Jason should be the one doing all that for me.

My tears flowed uncontrollably when I saw those two strangers with worried looks.

A good amount of time had passed, but Jason still had not returned. It was not long until my heart became as cold as the water's temperature.

I then heard voices coming from the janitor's walkie-talkie.

"I can't find any ointment in the first-aid kit, and I can't get in touch with Ms. Sylvie either. Has anyone seen her?"

"The surveillance footage showed her leaving the hotel with a man. What should we do now?"

"Who is he? Can anyone find out his phone number and if we can contact him?"

I wanted to tell them I knew him, but one important detail crossed my mind.

Jason would not let me get out of bed to take a shower after our intimate session. He had been holding his phone during the period when he demanded Sylvie clean the guest room. He missed my calls very frequently and hardly ever looked at his phone, yet he had been clutching it so tightly.

The screen lit up and shut off repeatedly.

A voice from outside seemed to respond to my thoughts, yelling, "She can't even get her husband to stay by her side! I'm just trying to be nice and teach her how to keep her man, but she hit me rather than thanking me. I didn't demand any compensation for that, so why are you people calling the police to arrest me? This is ridiculous!"

I instantly felt disgusted.

I massaged my waist, wondering if Jason had decided to make things more intense by provoking Sylvie during our honeymoon.

Suddenly, another voice came from the walkie-talkie, "We've found the surveillance footage. Our manager left with the male guest from room seven-zero-two..."

"Isn't that the same room where two male guests forced themselves onto another female guest?"

The janitor rushed to switch off the walkie-talkie.

I lowered my head and said, "I have his phone number. I'll call him."

As I went to get my phone, I glanced at the wedding dress and saw that it had been soiled by high-heeled shoe prints. My marriage certificate had also fallen to the floor, along with another footprint on our photograph.

I tried wiping away the shoe print, but the certificate became even dirtier.

It seemed to tell me that Jason's love and my marriage to him would never be as pure as it was at the beginning.

I called Jason.

His dial tone was a rendition of 'Wedding March', which played up to the second bar before being cut off.

Stunned, I called again, and was hung up again.

By the third time, the call could not even get through. My number had been blocked.

I held my phone blankly in my hand and felt like the sort of loser who had lost everything that had to live for.

The janitor patted me on the shoulder and handed me a few tissues.

Then came another knock on the door. It was the police.

They wanted me to come by the station so they could take my statement. I was obliged to recount the events of that painful night in detail.

The pain and embarrassment grew stronger with every word that came out of my mouth.

When I finally walked out of the interrogation room, Jason was there in front of me.

I had not considered how I should face him and what to say to him. Even though he showed up late, my tears started falling as soon as I saw him.

Jason rushed up to me and said, "Lauren, please tell the police that you were the one who opened the door and invited those two men in.

"Tell them that you burnt yourself, and I wasn't around because Sylvie brought me to get some ointment for your burns.

"Sylvie will be fired if you give them that explanation!"

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