Chapter 3
When I opened the door, the setup looked like something I'd seen before.
Back when Reginald played poor, we squeezed into a tiny, damp, run-down apartment.
His arms were the only warmth I ever knew.
He'd say, "Maisy, once I make it big, I'll buy you a mansion and you'll be a rich lady. I'll make those people who mocked you for being an orphan grovel at your feet."
Back then, my face was full of longing, and I couldn't stop excitedly describing how I wanted blue walls, an Oldland-style bed, and a super fluffy rug.
Every single detail I'd ever told him was there, just like I'd dreamed.
But compared to the other bedrooms, this one was clearly just a storage room they'd hastily converted.
I let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh.
Early the next morning, Reginald dragged me out of bed.
He flung a wedding dress in my face. "Hurry up and put it on. Just the kind you always wanted."
I shook my head. It wasn't that I didn't want to be sensible or do what he asked.
I honestly didn't have any strength left. My chest hurt so bad I couldn't even feel it anymore.
"Cheap piece of trash. The easier you get things, the more you act like you're some big shot," Reginald spat.
He didn't care if I said no; he yanked the wedding dress over my head, rough and impatient.
The wedding dress glittered with diamonds; it was stunning.
But what I really longed for was that day, when we stood side by side in plain clothes, looking each other in the eye and swearing our vows to the sky with nothing but pure honesty.
The guest seats at the wedding were filled with reporters and fans Jodie had invited.
Flashbulbs kept bouncing between me and Jodie, never letting up for a second.
When it came time to exchange rings, Reginald didn't even bother to slip a wedding ring onto my finger.
Instead, in a flimsy red paper box, there was nothing but a plain silver bracelet.
One time, on the way home from work, I stood outside a shop window, staring at it for ages.
It was 70 dollars.
Reginald said he'd work a few extra delivery shifts and save up to buy it for me.
Now, as Kingsford's crown prince, he was making good on that old promise.
"Seriously? The crown prince of Kingsford can't even cough up for a diamond ring? Just some junky bracelet? What a cheapskate."
"Clearly, he doesn't care about her. Last week, someone snapped a pic of him giving Jodie a diamond ring the size of a pigeon egg."
"Is this whole wedding just Jodie playing wife for the cameras?"
I put on a smile and reached out my hand for the ceremony, but inside, my heart twisted with bitterness and pain.
The wedding ceremony just went through the motions, like nobody really cared.
Jodie, playing the role of the groomsman, came over with a tray of drinks, her smile bright and playful.
The drinks were all kinds of colors, looking like a bunch of toxic cocktails.
"Maisy, time for the bride to toast the guests," Jodie said. "These are all top-shelf spirits, fifty percent alcohol. Strong stuff."
She linked her arm through mine, acting all friendly. "Now that you're Mrs. Hurst, get ready for a lifetime of schmoozing for Reginald."
I instinctively glanced at Reginald.
He knew exactly how bad my alcohol allergy was and how I nearly died in that crappy apartment because we had no money for the hospital.
Reginald frowned, looking a bit conflicted.
Jodie put on her best wounded act. "Reginald, all the reporters and fans are watching.
"Maisy spread rumors about me being a homewrecker back then, and I dropped from A-list to B-list because of it. Now that I've finally won my fans back, shouldn't Maisy at least toast and apologize?"
"She's right," Reginald said, his eyes icy and unforgiving. "You need to pay for your mistakes.
"It's just a few drinks. No one's dying here. If you really have an allergy, I'll haul you to the ER."
"Okay." I nodded obediently.
Honestly, I wasn't expecting anything from him anymore. But my heart still couldn't help hoping he'd stand up for me, even though I knew better.
None of it mattered now. Maybe if I left this world, I'd finally get to meet the parents I never got to meet.
Reginald's hand clamped around my waist as he steered me toward the party. "You know what to say, right? I don't need to spell it out for you."
I grabbed a glass, tipped it back, and swallowed the booze without a second thought.
The burn scorched all the way from my throat down to my stomach, but honestly, compared to the pain of my broken rib digging into my lung, this was nothing.
I forced a perfect smile, turned to the table full of fans, and struggled to get the words out. "I'm sorry.
"I was petty and jealous, and I spread rumors about Jodie Lawson being a homewrecker. It was all my fault. I'm the one to blame for all the confusion."
The second shot of 100-proof liquor scorched down my throat, making my blood churn and boil in my chest, rising up like it was about to burst out.
I slapped my hand over my mouth, forcing myself to swallow down the sickly sweet taste of blood.
"I was jealous of Jodie and deliberately framed her. It was all my fault," I managed to choke out.
All the reporters crowded in, their blinding flashes making my eyes water and burn.
Big, fat tears rolled down Jodie's cheeks, like she'd finally been vindicated after years of being wronged.
"That's not enough."
"You rotten piece of trash. Apologize to Jodie."
The fans were all yelling at me, their voices full of anger and accusation.
"Babes, don't be so harsh. Maisy got swept up in love for a moment," Jodie cooed.
She wiped away her tears, her voice trembling. "I'm really fine. Mr. Hurst and Mrs. Hurst are like family to me. We've already made up."
"Jodie, you're just too kind! Love you, goddess," the fans gushed.
They were all fawning over Jodie, shooting me even nastier looks. "Is that all? Two drinks? Where's the sincerity?"