Six Years A Ghost, Now Real

JILLIAN BELL POV:

The humiliation stretched for what felt like an eternity. Hours passed, each minute a slow, agonizing crawl. The music eventually died down, the guests thinned out, their whispers fading into the night. My body, exhausted and battered, ached. I stood there, held captive, invisible, until the final echo of laughter was gone.

Only then did Cristian finally give the order. "Let her go." His voice was devoid of emotion, a cold command.

The guards released me, and I crumpled to the ground, a heap of pain and shame. My limbs screamed in protest, my abdomen a burning fire. I tried to push myself up, but my body refused, collapsing back onto the cold marble floor. I knelt there, gasping for breath, my vision swimming.

Cristian stood over me, his shadow long and menacing. "Still playing the victim, Jillian?" His tone was laced with contempt. "You made your bed. Now lie in it. And don't think for a second I'm not going to make you pay for the scene you caused tonight." His eyes were ice, devoid of any warmth, any recognition of the woman he once claimed to love. I was a criminal in his gaze, nothing more.

Kasen, still clutching a small party favor, stepped up beside his father. He looked at me, his face a childish mask of annoyance. "Mom, why do you always have to cause trouble? First at home, now here. Kallie was so upset." He shook his head, a gesture he must have learned from his father. "Kallie is so much nicer. She understands things. You just… you don't."

My breath caught. My own son. My heart, already a gaping wound, was torn further open. He was a mimic, reflecting their cruelty back at me. I looked at the trio—Cristian, Kallie, and Kasen—standing together, united against me. They were a fortress of pain, and I was on the outside, utterly alone.

With a superhuman effort, I pushed myself to my feet, every muscle screaming in protest. I swayed for a moment, then straightened, refusing to collapse again. My eyes found the crumpled divorce papers, discarded like trash on the floor. I picked them up, smoothing the creases with shaking fingers.

"I'm divorcing you, Cristian," I said, my voice hoarse but firm. "It's over. I've already divided the assets. Fairly. I don't want a penny more than what's legally mine. No fight. No drama. Just sign." My resolve was absolute, a steel rod running through my broken body.

Cristian's expression shifted, a flicker of surprise in his cold eyes. He hadn't expected this quiet determination, this lack of avarice. He had expected a fight, a plea for money.

"Divorce?" Kasen piped up, his voice uncertain. "Mom, you can't divorce Dad! Where will we live? Who will pay for my school? Kallie says you don't even have a job." His innocent questions, poisoned by Kallie's insidious influence, felt like a renewed attack. He dismissed Cristian's infidelity, his cruelty, as if they were nothing.

My mind flashed back to countless nights in the kitchen, teaching Kasen to bake his favorite cookies, telling him bedtime stories, patching up scraped knees. The years I poured into him, the sacrifices I made for his happiness, for our family. My career, my dreams, all postponed for him. And now, he saw me as a burden, a financial liability.

A bitter laugh escaped me. It was a hollow, empty sound. "You're right, Kasen," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "You can have your new family. I won't stand in your way." The words tasted like ash.

Cristian stepped forward, his eyes narrowed. "Jillian, stop talking nonsense in front of Kasen. Get out of here. We'll talk about this tomorrow, when you've calmed down." He tried to grab my arm, to physically remove me from the scene.

I pulled back sharply. "I have calmed down, Cristian. And I'm not going anywhere with you." My gaze met his, unwavering.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes blazing. "You're still my wife, Jillian Bell Johnston. And you will come home with me. I'm willing to forgive your little tantrum and your... unfortunate choices. Now, let's go." He spoke as if he were granting me a great favor, as if I had any choice in the matter. His arrogance was breathtaking.

I said nothing. There was nothing left to say. My silence was my only weapon now, a refusal to engage in his twisted reality.

He dragged me through the silent house, his grip bruising. When we reached our bedroom, the door was ajar. And then I saw her. Kallie. Her bags were unpacked, her clothes already mingling with Cristian's in the closet. Her perfume, that sickly sweet scent, choked the air. She was home. My home.

Kasen, who had followed us, ran straight to Kallie, throwing his arms around her. "Kallie, are you okay? Mom was so mean." He looked up at her, his eyes full of adoration.

Kallie stroked his hair, a saccharine smile on her face. "I'm okay, sweetie. Your mom just doesn't understand."

Kasen nodded. "Yeah. She never lets me have what I want. But you do. You're the best." The words were an arrow, piercing the last fragile threads of my hope. He preferred the instant gratification Kallie offered over the years of unconditional love I had poured into him.