Chapter 5

The taxi wove through the city.

Outside, the neon lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors.

Inside, the silence was suffocating.

My mom clung to my hand, her palm icy cold, her body still trembling.

My dad sat in the front passenger seat, silent, but in the rearview mirror, I could see his jaw clenched tight and his eyes bloodshot with anger.

The driver probably figured out what had happened just from our clothes and the looks on our faces.

He opened his mouth a couple of times, but eventually just sighed and switched off the radio.

The silence spread through the tight space, heavy and suffocating.

Then my phone started blowing up.

Eric's name flashed on the screen.

I declined the call, my face expressionless.

Then I blocked him.

Not even a second later, my phone started ringing again.

This time, it was Marjorie.

I declined again and blocked her.

Then it was Richard.

Then Eric's cousin.

Then some distant relative from the Grant Family.

My phone wouldn't stop ringing, one call after another, relentless and unyielding.

It felt like they were trying to blow up my phone.

I added every number to my block list, one after another, no hesitation.

Finally, I turned off my phone.

Finally, peace.

"Julia."

My mom finally spoke, her voice thick with tears and choked with emotion.

"If it hurts, don't hold it in. Cry it out."

"Don't keep it all inside."

I shook my head.

"Mom, I don't want to cry."

"That kind of trash isn't worth it."

Yeah.

I did cry at the wedding.

But those tears were because I was moved by my parents' love.

But when it came to Eric and his family, my heart was already frozen solid.

Like a stone thrown into a freezer, cold, hard, and numb.

No sadness, no sorrow.

All I felt was the clear-headed relief of finally being free.

And a disgust that ran so deep, it settled in my bones, from all the lies and manipulation.

The taxi soon pulled up to the hotel where my parents were staying.

They'd flown in several days early, all just to celebrate my wedding.

But instead of witnessing a joyful ceremony, they ended up witnessing a humiliating farce.

I was still wearing that torn wedding dress.

I was barefoot, disheveled, and a complete mess.

People in the hotel lobby were all gawking at me, throwing me all kinds of weird looks.

My dad took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders, hugging me close like he was shielding me from the world.

His hands were broad and steady, radiating warmth.

I felt a lump in my throat, almost tearing up.

We made our way back to the room.

The first thing my mom did was head to the bathroom and start running a hot bath for me.

"Go take a hot bath and get out of that cursed dress," she said.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

My makeup was smeared all over, I looked like a total clown.

The once-white wedding dress was stained and torn, a total wreck.

This was supposed to be the most beautiful moment of my life.

But now, it was nothing but a cruel joke.

I peeled off that heavy wedding dress, finally shedding the last of my restraints.

Then I tossed it straight into the trash.

Warm water cascaded over me.

I crouched on the floor, hugging my knees, and finally, I couldn't hold it in anymore, I broke down, crying my eyes out.

Not a single tear was for Eric.

I was crying for myself, for everything I'd been through.

I cried so hard it felt like my soul was being ripped apart.

It was as if all the pain and humiliation I'd endured for three years came pouring out in that moment.

Outside, my mom was anxiously knocking on the door.

"Julia, Julia, what's wrong? Open the door!"

My dad's steady voice cut through the tension.

"Let her cry. Nothing's gonna happen."

I had no idea how long I cried.

By the time I finally stopped, I felt like I'd been wrung out, every bit of strength drained from me.

I leaned on the wall and slowly pushed myself up.

I let the water wash away all the weariness and shame clinging to me.

Then I changed into the clean clothes my mom had laid out for me.

I stepped out of the bathroom.

My parents were waiting for me on the couch.

My mom had ordered room service, and all my favorite dishes were laid out on the table.

"Julia, come here and eat something," my dad called.

His voice was gentle, but carried a quiet strength.

I walked over and joined them on the couch.

My mom handed me a bowl of soup.

"Have some soup first, it'll warm you up," Mom said softly.

I sipped the soup in silence, and couldn't help it, my tears fell right into the bowl.

"Dad, Mom."

My voice was thick with emotion.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry I embarrassed you."

"Silly girl," Mom answered.

She touched my head, her eyes red and misty.

"Don't be silly."

"If anyone should be apologizing, it's those Grant Family bastards!"

My dad patted my shoulder.

"Julia, you did exactly what you should have today."

"Brooks Family girls have guts!"

"When someone tries to push you around, you stand your ground and fight back. Don't let anyone walk all over you!"

"Your mom and I will always have your back, no matter what!"

"If you lose money, you can always earn it back."

"If you lose the house, we'll just buy another one."

"But you should never have to put up with this kind of humiliation!"

My dad's words washed over me like a wave of warmth, melting the ice in my heart.

Yeah.

I wasn't left with nothing.

I still had the best parents in the world.

That was more than enough.

I ate a ton at dinner.

I was eating to get my strength back.

Because I knew that this war was just getting started.

After dinner, I turned my phone back on.

My phone instantly blew up with missed calls and texts.

On my chat app, there were hundreds of unread messages waiting for me.

Some were from relatives and friends, checking in and sending their support.

But there were also a bunch of so-called "mutual friends" trying to play peacemaker.

"Julia, Eric knows he messed up. Give him another chance, okay?"

"Every couple fights, but it always blows over, don't end your marriage over something small."

"Come on, you're a woman, divorce will ruin your reputation. People will gossip."

I just scoffed and deleted every single one of those messages.

Then I posted my first update on my feed.

It was simple, just a picture and a single sentence.

The picture was a screenshot from my phone notes, showing a detailed breakdown of every expense, including wedding house, renovations, bridal gifts, and all the wedding costs.

The caption read: [Thanks to the Grant Family for teaching me that charity-style marriage is a mistake. Three years wasted, but I cut my losses in time. See you in court.]

After I posted it, I blocked all the Grant Family relatives.

Then I found a number and dialed it.

The call connected almost instantly.

A crisp, professional female voice came through the line.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Evelyn Carter?"

"Hi Evelyn, it's Julia Brooks. We spoke before, my dad's your friend."

"I've made up my mind."

"I'm suing Eric for divorce, and I want everything split fairly."

"I want every single thing that belongs to me back."