ManyWriters

The moment I discovered my pregnancy, I was overcome with joy and anticipation, eagerly planning how to reveal the news to Ray. I envisioned an intimate dinner, with candlelight and the sonogram tucked away for him to find. However, my plans were shattered before I could even begin.
Arriving home unexpectedly, I overheard voices coming from Ray's office. I hesitated by the entrance, my pulse quickening. While it wasn't uncommon for Ray to entertain guests, something in his tone made me linger silently, eavesdropping.
"You've maintained that young woman as your mistress for half a decade. Don't you intend to legitimize her position?" one of his companions jested, his words laced with sarcasm.
Ray let out a chuckle, the sound piercing me like shards of broken glass. "If Susan were to find out, she'd surely leave me. I can't afford that risk."
Their amusement erupted, filling the space like a cruel chorus. One voice stood out, oozing with admiration. "You're quite the cunning one, aren't you? Even your infidelity is meticulously orchestrated."
Each word felt like a stab, each more painful than the last. With trembling hands, I pushed the door open, stepping into their circle of casual camaraderie. Ray glanced up, his smile unwavering, as if nothing had transpired. He slipped a ring onto my finger with practiced ease.
"The wedding is scheduled for next month," he declared, his voice brimming with rehearsed enthusiasm. "I have to work late tonight, so go enjoy trying on wedding gowns. I'll see you later."
His touch lingered just long enough to make me nauseous. I knew the real reason for his absence. It wasn't work—it was Christine Brooks, the artist under his contract. He had reserved a romantic suite for them that night, another in a series of betrayals.
I suppressed the rising bile and forced a smile, playing the role of the unsuspecting fiancée. But inside, my heart was shattering into pieces I feared I could never reassemble.

Betrayed Before the Vows, A Bride's Heartbreak

The moment Ray began to speak, I didn't let him finish. Without hesitation, I tipped the paint bucket I was holding, dousing his expensive suit in a cascade of white. The paint splattered across his chest and pooled at his feet, creating a stark contrast against the smooth concrete floor. Ray stood motionless, gaping at the mess in disbelief, struggling to find words to make sense of the situation.


I felt a twinge of spiteful satisfaction watching him stand there, covered in my handiwork. After a long pause, Ray managed a weak, pitiful smile.


"Does this make you feel better?" he asked, his voice a mix of sadness and acceptance. He lifted his hand to wipe his face but thought better of it, letting it fall back to his side. "If not, you can strike me or yell at me, but please don't leave me."


Chapter 9