Too Late To Want Me Back

The sting of my mother-in-law’s slap burned across my cheek, but it was nothing compared to the silence from the man standing beside me.

My husband.

The sharp sound echoed through the ballroom, turning every head in our direction. Heat rushed to my face, smearing the red lipstick I had carefully applied earlier. I touched my cheek instinctively, fighting the tremble in my fingers.

“Red, Bianca?” Eleanor’s voice sliced through the sudden hush, loud enough for the circling board members to hear. She adjusted the emerald rings on her fingers, her smile cold and polished. “Some women simply don’t understand subtlety. When you lack breeding, you compensate with… desperation.”

Humiliation washed over me like ice water. My chest tightened as I turned to Dominic, silently pleading with him. Just once. Stand up for me.

He adjusted the cuffs of his black tuxedo, his dark eyes flicking over my burning cheek with the same detached interest he gave to quarterly reports. “Mother has a point about the timing,” he said, his voice smooth and even. “Don’t cause a scene. The directors are watching.”

Without another glance, he turned and walked away with Eleanor, leaving me alone on the edge of the dance floor under the weight of a hundred judging stares.

I stood frozen, gripping my evening bag until my knuckles ached. Be patient, I told myself. He’s under pressure because of the merger. Love requires patience.

For six years, I had dimmed my own light for Dominic Brown. I had managed his home, swallowed my dreams, and faded into the background so his empire could shine. And still, I clung to the belief that my loyalty would eventually warm his cold heart.

Tonight, that belief was cracking. I moved along the edge of the ballroom, avoiding the center where the elite mingled. Whispers followed me like smoke.

“Did you see that?” one executive’s wife murmured behind her champagne flute. “The poor thing actually believes she belongs here.”

“Her time is running out,” a senior board member replied with a smirk. “The real match arrived at JFK this morning. Selena Whitmore is already on her way.”

The name sent a chill down my spine. His first love. The elite heiress his family had always preferred. The one I thought was buried in the past.

My stomach twisted as I remembered Dominic glued to his phone all evening, his expression softening in a way it never did for me.

The lights suddenly dimmed. The crowd shifted toward the grand stage as Dominic stepped behind the podium, cameras flashing against his sharp jawline. He looked every inch the ruthless billionaire that the city both admired and feared.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” his deep voice commanded the room into silence. “Tonight marks a turning point for Brown Holdings. We have shattered expectations and positioned ourselves for global dominance.”

Applause erupted. I stood near the back, eyes fixed on him.

“But an empire is only as strong as its foundation,” he continued, raising his champagne glass. “So let us toast to those who have been loyal from the very beginning. The ones who truly understand legacy.”

His gaze swept the room… and passed straight over me. It settled instead on the shadowed VIP section beside the stage.

A woman in a stunning white gown stood there, diamonds glittering at her throat. She lifted her glass toward Dominic with a soft, knowing smile.

Selena Whitmore. In that moment, everything became painfully clear. I wasn’t his wife. I was simply the placeholder who had kept the seat warm for six long years.

The applause roared in my ears like static. Unable to breathe, I turned and fled toward the corridor leading to the private terrace, desperate for air before the tears broke free.

But as I reached the heavy double doors, soft voices stopped me cold.

The corridor was dimly lit by moonlight filtering through tall glass windows. Hidden in the deep shadows of a marble pillar, two silhouettes stood pressed together, too close, too intimate. My feet rooted to the spot.

I should have walked away. I should have spared myself. But my body refused to move.

“You handled the press perfectly, Dom,” Selena purred, her voice like velvet wrapped around a blade. Her fingers traced the lapels of his tuxedo, lingering with a familiarity that twisted a knife in my gut.

From my hiding spot behind the cracked door, I watched in frozen horror as she rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was slow, deep, and unhurried, like two lovers reuniting after years apart. Dominic didn’t pull away. His hand came up to cup the back of her neck, pulling her tighter against him. The sound of their lips meeting echoed softly in the quiet corridor, each second carving out pieces of my heart.

How could this be? The thought screamed in my mind as hot tears stung my eyes. How could he kiss her like that… while I’m still his wife?

I clutched the doorframe, my nails digging into the wood. My chest heaved with silent sobs.

Six years of quiet sacrifices, late nights waiting for him, swallowing my loneliness, pretending his coldness was just stress, all of it meant nothing. He dismissed me as if our marriage were a forgotten contract, easily erased.

Just as I forced my trembling legs to turn and walk away, Selena’s voice drifted out again, soft and mocking.

“It must have been so hard on you, Dom,” she whispered against his mouth, her fingers playing with his tie. “Getting married to someone you didn’t love. Pretending all these years. But I’m back now. Tell me… what are you going to do about her?”

My breath hitched. Her. As if I didn’t even deserve a name.

Dominic’s reply came after a heavy pause, his voice thick with tension. “What matters right now is that you’re back, Selena. Everything else… can be handled.”

Handled. The word landed like a slap. Tears streamed freely down my face now, mixing with the smeared makeup and the lingering sting on my cheek.

How could he speak about me like I was a problem to solve? Like our vows, meant absolutely nothing?

Selena let out a soft, triumphant laugh. “Then, when will you divorce her? I’ve waited long enough. We both have.”

I stood there, shattered, waiting for his answer. My heart pounded so violently I thought it might tear through my ribs. Say something, Dominic. Tell her no. Tell her you won’t destroy me like this. But the silence stretched, heavy and damning. Each second confirmed what I had always feared in the darkest corners of my mind: he had never truly been mine.

Suddenly, his phone rang, the sharp trill slicing through the corridor like a gunshot. I flinched hard, stumbling back a step. The sound jolted me out of my paralysis, my tear-soaked eyes widening in panic.

I didn’t wait to hear more. Blinded by tears, my world crumbling around me, I turned and fled down the corridor, my heels echoing like accusations on the marble floor.

The pain in my chest was unbearable.