Chapter 1
To appease Kathryn, who was throwing yet another dramatic tantrum, Eric asked me to step down as the bride.
“She’s just young and a bit naive. Could you do me this favor?” he pleaded. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be the real Mrs. Jimenez.”
I gripped the hem of my wedding dress, hesitated, and then nodded silently. As I retreated to the changing room, I overheard him joking with his buddies.
“Savanna’s like a loyal dog; she wouldn’t dare defy me.”
“So, you’re really letting the girlfriend steal the show at your wedding? Bet you could even convince her to give up her spot on the marriage certificate, and she’d go along with it.”
Eric chuckled arrogantly. “Absolutely, wanna bet?”
He wagered with his friend that post-wedding, he’d secure a marriage certificate with Kathryn, and even if I was devastated, I’d quietly comply. I lingered for a moment, then turned and left without a word.
Outside the bridal shop, I glanced at the incoming text:
[Sis, let’s ditch this wedding, okay?]
I replied: [Okay!]
Just as I sent it, my phone buzzed silently. Thankful for the mute, I avoided interrupting Eric’s video call with his friends, who were still mocking me.
“If she can’t handle this, how can she be the Jimenez family’s matriarch?” he quipped. “She won’t leave me. I’ll just spoil her with a few gifts to win her back.”
“If Savanna’s really that easy to manage, I’ll gift you my new sports car as a wedding present!”
“Deal!”
Amid their laughter, I slipped back into the dressing room, locking the door. Finally, the tears I’d been holding back streamed down uncontrollably. After five years with Eric, he fell for a vivacious college student. He showered her with houses, cars, and even a job, yet she always looked down on it.
“You can’t buy me,” she sneered.
Whenever she felt slighted, she’d storm off, and Eric delighted in chasing after her. The last time, to please Kathryn, he destroyed my paintings meant for a competition, compensating me with jewelry she’d rejected.
Another time, because Kathryn accused me of disrespecting her, he tossed me out into the snow in nothing but a thin nightgown. Not only did he photograph my distress to send to Kathryn, but he also messaged her, [See, I vented your anger for you, so hurry back, I miss you.]
The next day, while dosing me with cold medicine, he said, “She’s just a pretty diversion, fun to keep around. Why stress over her?”
This was the hundredth time he’d asked me to step aside. I was exhausted, tired of his games. Wiping my tears, I swiftly changed out of the wedding dress and found over thirty unread messages.
The latest read: [Sis, you weren’t lying to me, were you? I’ll take it seriously!]
I quickly replied: [I mean it.]
As the message sent, a knock came at the dressing room door.
“Savanna, are you ready?” Eric called.
I hastily composed myself before opening the door. His gaze fell on my slightly reddened eyes, and he smirked.
“Really, tears? It’s just a wedding. I’ll make it up to you later.”
I shook my head. “No, my false lashes got in my eyes while changing.”
He let it drop.
On the drive back, he asked where I’d like to honeymoon. I casually replied that I hadn’t decided yet, but in my mind, I was already plotting my escape. Before exiting the car, he pulled a jewelry box and a piece of lingerie from the glove compartment. The atmosphere grew tense.
Eric cleared his throat and discreetly tucked the lingerie away. Then he opened the jewelry box and presented it to me. “I got this for you. This whole wedding thing upset you, but you’re always so understanding, right?”
I eyed the cheap diamond bracelet inside, bitterness rising anew. My dresser already held seven identical ones. This eighth seemed to mark the end for us.
As the car’s taillights faded, I finally called the man anxiously waiting on the other end:
“In a week, I’ll join you in France.”
That day coincidentally marked Eric and Kathryn’s wedding.
---
That night, I dreamed of when I first met Eric. It was after my parents’ death, and the Jimenez family took me in. Stepping into such an alien world, I was riddled with anxiety.
I vividly recalled Eric, standing proudly on the stairs in a pair of overalls. “You’re my new sister? Don’t worry; I’ll take care of you!”
He’d sneak me succulent roast beef late at night or skip school to hunt down the trendiest hair clips in town. When I was teased for my accent, he’d mimic my speech to greet everyone.
During those challenging times, Eric stood by me. Like a knight, he shielded me from bullies, declaring, “Don’t worry, Savanna. I’m your knight; I’ll protect you forever.”
I believed him and plunged into those promises. Before college graduation, Eric was wholly devoted to me. But after, as he assumed the family business, women began to swarm around him.
He remained attentive to me—and to them—claiming it was inevitable in the business world. Then Kathryn appeared, and his heart visibly shifted. At first, I argued and fought with him, but gradually, my protests became a game to him—one he never took seriously.
Eventually, I channeled my energy into painting instead of conflict. He saw it as my surrender, openly flaunting Kathryn at events and gatherings. But unbeknownst to Eric, another man had entered my life.
I met Elliot at an art exhibition. We both admired an obscure painting, engaging in a spirited debate all afternoon, only for the artist to sell it to Elliot due to a personal connection. I left the exhibition disheartened.
But the next day, Elliot gifted me the painting, marking the start of our bond. During the countless lonely days after Eric abandoned me, Elliot was there. Though three years younger, he cared for me.
A flurry of messages jolted me awake. It was a text from Kathryn. Pictures and a recording. Though I had a rough idea about the recording's content, my hands trembled as I played it.
The audio began with intimate sounds, followed by Kathryn’s sultry voice: “Eric, are you really making me your bride? What if your fiancée gets mad?”
Eric’s breathless reply: “Her anger would only make you happier.”
“I’m worried your fiancée might run off, leaving you to blame me.”
“If she runs, you’ll just have to make it up to me! You promised tonight you’d satisfy me!”
The recording ended with breathy sighs.
Suddenly, nausea overwhelmed me. I rushed to the bathroom but only managed dry heaves, having skipped dinner. Slumping against the cold tiles, my finger accidentally hit speed dial.
My heart skipped, fearing I’d dialed Eric. But before I could hang up, a familiar voice came through:
“Sis?”
I snapped back to reality. My speed dial had long been set to Elliot’s number.
“Sis, are you there? Did something happen?”
Hearing his concerned voice, my tears fell onto the phone’s screen.
“Sis, what’s wrong? Please, talk to me!”
“Elliot, I miss you.”
The line was silent for a moment, then I heard rustling as he got dressed.
“Sis, I’ll come to New York and find you now.”
I quickly said, “No, Elliot, I just had a nightmare. You said you’d be busy before heading overseas, right? Focus on that. We’ll meet at the airport in a week.”
That finally convinced Elliot to stay put. Before hanging up, he kept reminding me, “If anything happens, call me right away. Don’t worry, I’m always here.”
His assurance of always being there soothed my restless heart.