Scorned Vixen Bites Back

Night fell.

The Golden Globes were live on TV. Even though Ivy was absent, the award for Best Supporting Actress went to her. The host announced that a special guest would accept it on her behalf.

The audience buzzed. Everyone knew what that meant.

Everyone in Hollywood knew Ivy was the one that got away for Marcus back in school.

She was the first actress his company signed, and he’d been championing her ever since.

And I was seen as the wicked woman who’d schemed her way into his bed and broken them up.

But I only cared about Marcus’s attitude. He’d promised me he and Ivy were just business. That he’d never cross the line.

After all, Ivy could have just sent her agent to accept the award.

The next second, a handsome man in a designer suit stood up. Under the gaze of millions, he walked to the stage, took the award, and said in that damn sexy voice of his,

“Thank you, everyone, and thank you to Ivy’s fans for their endless support. In my heart, she will always be the best.”

He didn't care that this would make me a laughingstock across the country. In that moment, he only cared about Ivy.

It was August, but I felt a winter chill creep into my bones.

Suddenly, Dylan burst out of his room, grabbed his phone, and ignored the anniversary dinner I’d prepared.

As he passed the shoe rack, he deliberately stomped on my favorite pair of Jimmy Choo heels. His eyes held a strange glint as he muttered, “Ivy would never wear such basic shoes,” before slamming the door behind him.

I picked up my phone. Still no messages. Everyone had forgotten it was our twelfth anniversary.

I remembered last year’s anniversary. Marcus had claimed to have a board meeting, Dylan had locked himself in his room playing video games, and I’d eaten a dinner for two all by myself.

I planned every holiday for them. When it came to me, I was a joke.

I stood up, tore down the stupid decorative streamers, threw the silverware in the trash, and scraped the entire meal into the garbage disposal.

Just as I finished, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Marcus, saying a board meeting had come up and he’d be home late. I was about to reply when I scrolled and saw Ivy’s new Instagram post.

Her caption read: “Time passes, but the one who loves you is always there for you.”

Beside her was a Victoria’s Secret box. I didn’t need to zoom in. It was the exact style of sexy lingerie I had told him to buy just last night.

Then, my feed refreshed. A post from my son.

“My goddess won! God, I wish she were my mom… Don’t we look like a happy family?”

The post had a few selfies. In one, Marcus and Ivy were standing close together in a fancy Beverly Hills restaurant, a huge celebratory cake in front of them.

So that was his “board meeting.”

I looked at the picture of the radiant Ivy and laughed, though my heart felt like it was being shredded.

She was three years younger than me, right in a woman’s prime.

Her allure, her killer body—it was no wonder so many men were drawn to her.

I remembered one of my birthdays years ago. She’d posted something about it being a good night for a drink. As if on cue, Marcus made a lame excuse and rushed out.

It was a rare rainy day in LA, and I went to bring him an umbrella, only to see him emerging from a bar with Ivy. The rain soaked his shoulders, but he had taken off his jacket to shield her.

At that moment, I saw my own reflection in the car window and could only laugh at myself. If it had been me, his jacket probably wouldn't have even fit around half of me.

I used to be one of the top beauties in Hollywood. I could pull off any style, and my figure was the envy of many.

But everything changed after I had my son. My body blew up like a balloon, and no amount of exercise could slim it down.

I could feel Marcus’s attitude getting colder by the day.

The only physical contact we had was when I accidentally brushed against his back when I rolled over in bed.

Yet I still ran this house tirelessly. And now it was clear that everything I did was taken for granted.

Maybe you only see what you had when it’s slipping through your fingers.

I liked both of their posts, then screenshotted them and sent them to my husband.

“Too bad. You could have gotten a discount at Victoria’s Secret if you’d bought the whole set.”

Then, I turned off my phone and started packing.