Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - An Unthinkable Request and a Bitter Accusation

"Are you actually serious right now?" I stared at Julian, unable to believe what I was hearing. The audacity of this man to suggest we stay married while he married my stepsister, then reunite after her death.

His eyes were pleading, hand still reaching for mine. "Hazel, please understand—"

I slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me. Don't you dare touch me."

"I'm just trying to make this right!" Julian's voice cracked with desperation.

"Make it right?" I let out a bitter laugh. "You want to marry my dying stepsister in my wedding, using my designs, while staying married to me, then come back when she's dead? And you think that makes anything right?"

His face flushed. "When you put it that way—"

"There's no other way to put it!" I was shouting now, not caring who heard. "You're disgusting. Both of you."

"Ivy is dying!" Julian raised his voice to match mine. "Don't you have any compassion?"

That was the final straw. I slapped him across the face, harder than I had at the hospital. The sound echoed in the parking lot.

"Don't you dare lecture me about compassion," I seethed. "I gave you my blood for six years. I postponed my dreams for you. I nursed you through your illness. Where was your compassion when you canceled our wedding? Where was your compassion when you let Ivy steal everything I worked for?"

Julian rubbed his reddening cheek, eyes downcast. "I didn't think—"

"That's right. You didn't think. You never do." I turned away from him. "This conversation is over. I'm filing for divorce next week, with or without you. And don't ever contact me again except through lawyers."

I walked away, my heels clicking on the pavement. For once, Julian didn't follow.

Once in my car, I took a deep breath. I needed to call Grandma Helen and Aunt Rebecca to explain what happened. They had been so excited about the wedding.

"Hello, sweetheart!" Grandma's cheerful voice answered after two rings. "How are the final wedding preparations going?"

My throat tightened. "Grandma... there's not going to be a wedding."

Silence fell on the other end. "What happened?" Her voice was suddenly much sharper.

I told her everything—Julian's betrayal, Ivy's manipulation, even the firecrackers. By the end, I could hear Aunt Rebecca in the background, swearing colorfully.

"That absolute weasel!" Aunt Rebecca was now on speakerphone. "I'll fly back right now. Let me at him."

Despite everything, I smiled. My mother's family had always been fiercely protective.

"No need," I assured her. "I've handled it. The wedding's off, and I'm moving forward."

"What about your design business?" Grandma asked practically. "Wasn't it tied up with his company?"

"He's signing over MG Designs to me. It's not doing well, but I can turn it around."

"Of course you can," Grandma said firmly. "You're Catherine's daughter."

My eyes welled with tears at the mention of my mother. "I miss her."

"She would be so proud of you," Aunt Rebecca said softly. "Standing up for yourself like this."

After promising to keep them updated, I hung up and drove straight to my new office. Ashworth Bespoke—formerly MG Designs—was now mine. The paperwork had been rushed through, probably Julian's guilty conscience at work.

The staff seemed uncertain as I walked through the doors. News traveled fast, and they surely knew about the canceled wedding.

"Good morning, everyone," I announced, standing in the center of the main workspace. "As you may have heard, I am now the sole owner of this company, which will now be called Ashworth Bespoke. I look forward to working with all of you."

A few hours later, my assistant knocked on my office door. "Ms. Ashworth? Mr. Grayson is here to collect his personal items."

I nodded stiffly. "Let him in. I'll step out."

Julian entered as I gathered my things to leave. Our eyes met briefly, but I looked away first, refusing to engage. I walked past him without a word, chin high, back straight. He didn't try to speak either.

I was reviewing fabric samples in the conference room when my assistant appeared again, looking uncomfortable.

"Ms. Ashworth? There's a Ms. Ivy Ashworth here to see you."

My stomach dropped. What could Ivy possibly want now?

"Send her in," I said after a moment's hesitation.

Ivy shuffled in, looking frail. Her once-glossy hair hung limp around her pale face, and she leaned heavily on a cane. The sight should have invoked sympathy, but all I felt was suspicion.

"What do you want, Ivy?" I asked coldly.

She lowered herself carefully into a chair across from me. "Thank you for seeing me, Hazel."

"Cut to the chase. I have work to do."

Ivy looked down at her hands. "I have a favor to ask."

I laughed harshly. "A favor? You steal my fiancé and my wedding, and you have the nerve to ask for a favor?"

"Please, just hear me out." Her voice was soft, fragile. Always the perfect victim. "Julian and I are getting married next week."

"I'm aware," I cut in. "Congratulations on your stolen wedding."

Ivy winced but continued. "We need a witness. Someone to sign the marriage certificate."

The room seemed to tilt. "Excuse me?"

"I want you to be our witness," Ivy repeated, looking up at me with those large, manipulative eyes. "It would mean so much to me."

I stood up so quickly my chair nearly toppled over. "Get out."

"Hazel, please—"

"GET OUT!" I was shaking with fury. "Have you completely lost your mind? You want me to witness your marriage to my ex-fiancé? In my wedding?"

Tears spilled down Ivy's cheeks. "I'm dying, Hazel. This is my last wish."

"Your last wish is to hurt me one more time," I hissed. "You've always been like this. Taking what's mine, hurting me for fun. Even on your deathbed, you can't stop."

"That's not true!" Ivy sobbed, pressing a tissue to her eyes. "I just... people are talking. They're saying terrible things about us. If you were there, supporting us, it would show everyone that there's no bad blood."

"There is bad blood!" I shouted. "You stole my life!"

Ivy suddenly lunged forward, grabbing my arm with surprising strength. "Please, Hazel. Do this one thing for me. I've never asked you for anything before."

I yanked my arm away forcefully. "Don't touch me!"

The momentum of my pull sent Ivy tumbling from her chair. She fell to the floor with a cry just as the door swung open.

Julian stood there, face darkening as he took in the scene—Ivy crumpled on the floor, me standing over her.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, rushing to Ivy's side.

"Julian, no—" Ivy began weakly.

"She attacked me," I said incredulously. "She grabbed my arm!"

Julian wasn't listening. He helped Ivy to her feet, his arm protectively around her waist. "Are you okay? Did she hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Ivy whispered, then coughed delicately. "It wasn't Hazel's fault. I lost my balance."

But Julian's eyes were cold as he looked at me. "I can't believe you. She came here trying to make peace, and you pushed her?"

"I didn't push her!" I protested. "She grabbed me, and I pulled away. She fell!"

"She's sick, Hazel! She has cancer!" Julian's voice rose with each word. "What kind of person treats a dying woman this way?"

"Julian, please," Ivy murmured, clinging to his arm. "Let's just go."

I couldn't believe what was happening. Somehow, once again, Ivy had turned the situation around to make herself the victim and me the villain.

"You asked me to be a witness at your wedding," I said flatly, looking directly at Ivy. "In what universe did you think I would agree to that?"

Julian's eyes widened in shock. "You asked her what?"

For a split second, Ivy looked caught. Then her expression crumpled, and she began to cry softly against Julian's shoulder. "I just wanted us all to get along. I thought... maybe if Hazel could see how happy we are..."

"You manipulative—" I started, but Julian cut me off.

"That's enough!" he snapped. "You've caused enough pain. Can't you see what you're doing to her?"

"What I'm doing to her?" I repeated incredulously. "Are you blind? She's playing you like a violin, Julian. She always has."

Julian's face contorted with anger. "You've changed, Hazel. The woman I loved would never be this cruel."

"And the man I loved would never be this stupid," I shot back.

Ivy suddenly doubled over, coughing violently. When she straightened, there was blood on her hand and lips.

Julian's face went white. "We need to get you to the hospital." He turned to me, his eyes full of condemnation. "I hope you're satisfied."

As he guided Ivy toward the door, she looked back over her shoulder at me—and I could have sworn I saw a flash of triumph in her eyes before she resumed her pained expression.

Julian's final, disgusted glance in my direction was like a knife to the heart. Even now, after everything, his immediate assumption was that I was in the wrong. That I had deliberately hurt Ivy.

The door closed behind them, leaving me alone with the bitter taste of false accusation and the sickening realization that Ivy's manipulations had worked perfectly once again.