Trapped In Lies

I held my glass of champagne.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

She gently rubbed her stomach.

“We consulted a psychic. She said it would be a girl, and Dan was over the moon. He said he hoped our daughter would take after her mother.”

She looked at me and suddenly lowered her voice. “You know, Dan said if he hadn’t sent you away, he probably would’ve stayed torn between us for a long time.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“What I’m saying is...” She smiled sweetly.

“Thank you for stepping aside back then. Without your sacrifice, we wouldn’t have the life we have today.”

My hand was trembling.

A few drops of champagne splashed out and stained my dress.

“Hayley, do you know that when you were pregnant with your first child, I was out there working in freezing temperatures, running a dangerously high fever, and almost died?” I looked her straight in the eyes.

She blinked.

“What about it?”

“I called him seventeen times, and he never answered. It was our anniversary.”

She smiled.

“He was helping me choose a wedding gown.”

I took a deep breath.

Then, she added, “It was a limited-edition Vera Wang gown—the one with the pearl embroidery around the waist.”

I had tried that gown on five years ago.

Back then, Dan had said, “We’ll buy this for our wedding.”

It turned out that when he said “we,” he had never meant me and him.

I set down my glass and turned to leave.

At some point, Dan had appeared behind us.

He looked at me with a mixture of emotions in his eyes.

“Stella—”

“Don’t say my name, it makes me sick.” I cut him off.

I walked out of the ballroom. Rain was falling outside.

I stood beneath the eaves and watched the downpour blur the city into a single grey haze.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

Dan had followed me out.

He held an umbrella in his hand and offered it to me.

“Take it. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Why do you care?”

He fell silent for a moment.

“I know you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

I said, “I just think I wasted five years on someone who wasn’t worth it.”

“Those five years—”

I cut him off. “I worked sixteen-hour days during those five years in the middle of nowhere. My periods stopped for months at a time. My hair was falling out in handfuls. I endured all of it because I kept telling myself that I would finally marry you when I came back.”

The color drained from his face.

“As for you, in those same five years, you got married, had a child, and now, you’re expecting another.” I let out a laugh.

“I’m sorry.”

“What good is your apology?”

I looked straight at him.

“Dan, you’ve made it impossible even to hate you. You’ve made me feel like a fool.”

The rain came down harder.

He opened the umbrella and tried to angle it over me.

I pushed his hand away and stepped into the downpour.

The rain was freezing, and it soaked through my clothes within seconds.

One week later, I received a call from home.

Mom was crying on the phone.

“Stella, your dad’s in the hospital!”

I rushed home immediately. My father, who had struggled with heart disease for years, lay in the hospital bed with a gray, ashen face.

Mom grabbed my hand.

“Someone sent your dad a letter. It said that you... that you were the other woman and that you broke up someone’s family.”

“I did no such thing!”

“There were photos!”

Mom wiped away her tears. “They included text messages between you and Dan. There were even statements from people at your company.”

I snatched the envelope.

The photographs inside were doctored, and the chat logs were fabricated.

However, they were alarmingly convincing.

“Dad, please, let me explain...”

Dad opened his eyes and looked at me for a long moment.

“I believe you,” he said.

Then, he closed his eyes.

A shrill alarm erupted from the heart monitor.

Doctors and nurses rushed into the room.

I was pushed out of the ward.

Outside the door, Dan stood there.

He held a fruit basket in his hands.

“I came to see Mr. Elba,” he said.

A nurse passed by and murmured under her breath, “Mr. Hill is such a good man. He even visits his ex-girlfriend’s father.”

I stared at him before I snapped. I lunged forward and slapped him.

The fruit basket fell to the floor, and fruit rolled everywhere.

“You did this!”

“I don’t know what—”

“You don’t know?”

I grabbed the front of his shirt.