The Price of a Lie

Looking back, I now realized Charles had reserved his last shred of purity for the one he truly loved.

Instinctively, I took a step back, wanting to escape.

But Lily wouldn’t let me retreat. She walked toward me with a hidden sense of satisfaction. Despite wearing high heels, she moved swiftly, as though relishing the moment.

"You’re already here—why leave so soon?" she asked, then forcefully dragged me to the center of the party, right in front of Charles and Susan.

When she let go, she pushed me hard, causing me to stumble and fall to the ground. I landed in an awkward, humiliating heap.

Charles’s face darkened. He started to reach out instinctively, but Susan caught his arm just in time. With a charming smile, she said, "Charles, thank goodness you were there to steady me. Otherwise, I’d have ended up embarrassing myself like this young lady." She even playfully stuck out her tongue as she finished speaking.

I struggled to get up on my own, but the fall had creased my dress, making it look unkempt and awkward.

Charles’s expression was ice-cold as he asked, "Why are you here?"

Before I could respond, "Wasn’t it you who—?" Lily cut me off.

"You couldn’t possibly have shown up just to ruin the party, right? Maybe you thought you could steal Susan’s spotlight after hearing Charles threw this welcome party for her return?"

"I didn’t! You were the one who called me here!" I tried to explain.

The crowd’s attention shifted to Lily, but her expression remained unchanged. "Yes, I did call you—but only to tell you not to come and embarrass yourself. Honestly, with Susan here, what business does a stand-in have showing up and acting so brazenly? You really are shameless."

Then, she sneered with exaggerated disdain. "And why is your dress identical to Susan’s? You can’t tell me you’re not here to provoke her. Women like you, from small, insignificant families, are always so vulgar."

Her words stung, leaving my face burning with shame. I couldn’t even find the words to defend myself.

Lily wasn’t done yet. With the mock surprise, she covered her mouth dramatically. "Oh, right! Susan’s dress was a custom order from abroad—Charles went through so much trouble to get a one-of-a-kind design for her. So what’s this that you’re wearing? A knockoff? Hahaha! Some people really are like cheap imitations. Compared to the real thing, they’re nothing but worthless."

In their elite circles, counterfeit goods were the ultimate insult. And in their eyes, I was just like the dress I wore—a lowly imitation, utterly beneath them.

The looks they gave me were filled with ridicule, disdain, and mockery.

I thought Charles would be different. After all, we had been together for three years. Even if I was nothing more than a dog to him, surely there would be some shred of affection.

But when I turned to him, all I saw was cold indifference, as though he were an observer, far removed from the humiliation I was enduring.

Susan’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction, though her words were soft and seemingly considerate. "Charles, you know how much I dislike wearing the same thing as someone else. It’s not that I have anything against this young lady, but I just can’t bear to be dressed the same as someone else at such an important occasion. Maybe I should just leave."

Charles immediately grabbed her wrist. "You’re the guest of honor tonight. If you leave, what’s the point of the party?" His voice carried a hint of indulgence and helplessness.

Then he turned to me, his gaze sharp and unforgiving. "Do I need to ask someone to escort you out, Jessica?"

The way he said my name was colder than I had ever heard it before. It reminded me of how he only called me warmly, tenderly, when we were alone.

A silent tear slid down my cheek. On my birthday, I was thrown out like a stray dog, humiliated and broken.

And the person who drove me out wasn’t Susan. It was Charles, the man I loved most.