Chapter 3

"Hold their heads up?" I laughed through my tears, which started falling out of nowhere. "Hugo, do you even know what shame is?"

He was stunned, probably never expected me to say that.

I wiped my face, but the tears just kept coming. In the past seven years, I'd cried in front of him so many times—out of hurt, sadness, even gratitude—but never like this. Never felt so free while crying.

I said, "Ever since I was eighteen and started seeing you, I have lost all my self-respect in front of you. I've begged for your love and attention like a beggar.

"When you celebrated Natalia's birthday, I lied to myself, saying you were just being thoughtful.

"When you took her to the hospital, I convinced myself you were just being decent. When you remembered all her preferences, I told myself you were just nostalgic.

"And now, on the night before our wedding, you took the ring that was meant for me and slipped it onto her finger."

I took a deep breath, tears blurring my vision, but I forced myself to look at him. "Hugo, my self-respect has already been trampled by you, shattered, and turned to ashes. And now you want to talk about family honor?"

His expression turned stormy, lips set in a hard, straight line.

I knew all too well what that meant. He was about to get angry.

For the past seven years, every time I questioned his connection with Natalia, he'd show me that face, then freeze me out for days, waiting for me to finally cave and beg him to make up.

But this time, I wouldn't.

"The wedding is cancelled," I said.

"That's impossible," he shot back without hesitation.

"Then have the wedding all by yourself," I said, turning to leave. "By eight tomorrow morning, I'll make sure every guest knows the wedding is cancelled. And the PR team will issue a statement to the press."

"Elodie!" Hugo rushed over and grabbed my shoulders, his grip so fierce it felt like he might crush my bones. "Don't you dare!"

I turned back to look at the man I once loved so deeply it was in my bones, and suddenly, he felt like a complete stranger.

"Why shouldn't I?" I asked quietly. "Hugo, do you really believe I can't live without you?

"Is that what you think—that no matter how you trample on my feelings, I'll always stay by your side, just waiting for you to throw me a crumb of affection whenever you feel like it?"

His eyes narrowed, and for just a moment, his grip on me slackened.

I broke free and walked to the study door, my hand closing around the doorknob.

"For seven years, I loved you like a fool, and that was my choice," I said, turning back to give him one last smile, my tears finally drying up. "But now, I don't want to anymore."

With that, I pulled the door open and stepped into the dim hallway.

"Elodie!" Hugo called after me, his voice laced with panic—a tone I'd never heard from him before. "Stop! Let's talk!"

I didn't look back.

Step by step, I walked down the spiral staircase. Each step felt like walking on the edge of a knife, but with every step, I grew steadier.

The wedding schedule was still sitting on the coffee table in the living room, and my bridal portrait smiled at me from the mantelpiece. In the photo, I was leaning against Hugo's shoulder, my grin so bright it almost hurt to look at.

I picked up the frame, running my fingers gently over the glass.

Then I let go.

The sound of shattering glass exploded in the silent night. The photo slipped out of the broken frame, landing among the scattered shards on the floor.

"Are you out of your mind?" Hugo stormed down the stairs, his eyes blazing red as he took in the scene.

Ignoring him, I bent down, picked up the photo, and tore it right down the middle. The sound of ripping paper was sharp, like the final act in a ritual of endings.

"Hugo," I said, tossing the two halves of the photo at his feet, "we're done."

Without another word, I walked barefoot across the shattered glass, heading for the front door. Sharp pain shot through my feet as the shards cut into my skin, leaving a trail of dark red footprints on the expensive marble floor.

The pain snapped me back to reality.

"Where are you going?" Hugo shouted from behind me.

I threw the door open, and the storm's wet air rushed over me.

"I'm going to reclaim my dignity," I said, then stepped into the rain without a backward glance.

The door slammed shut behind me, sealing off Hugo's last desperate call.

The rain poured down in sheets, stinging my skin. I wandered the empty streets in nothing but a thin nightgown, barefoot, leaving faint pink trails behind me as the rainwater mixed with the blood from my cut feet.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Hugo was calling.

I hit decline and then powered it off.

Headlights cut through the rain, and a sleek black sedan slowed to a stop right beside me. The window rolled down, revealing a face I recognized but couldn't quite place—a mix of familiarity and strangeness.

The man in the driver's seat frowned slightly, his gaze dropping to my bleeding feet. "Miss Moore?" he asked, concern in his voice. "Do you need any help?"