MasukBETTY
Standing in front of the full-length mirror in my room, I stare at the silver sequin gown Harriette sent earlier with a note that read, Wear this tonight.
The gown is beautiful, and it’s hugging me in all the right places.
For a moment, I almost don’t recognize myself. My waist looks smaller, my figure elegant, making me look like I belong, but when I lift my gaze to my reflection, the illusion fades.
Even with the makeup, my face looks pale and tired, like I haven’t slept in days. And the truth is, I haven’t. Not since I heard Nathaniel in his office, saying things no wife should ever hear.
I still can’t get his words out of my head, and every time my eyes close, I hear his voice. “I don’t love her. I will never love anyone as i loved you.”
My hands tighten around the edge of the dresser, taking a deep breath, forcing myself to look up at my reflection again.
“I wish I didn’t have to go downstairs,” I mutter out loud to myself.
It’s Harriette’s birthday tonight, and she’s the only reason I still have a place in this family. So no matter how I feel, I have to attend.
I smooth my dress one last time and grab the black and silver masquerade mask from my bedside table. “Just make sure Harriette sees you, then you can slip away,” I tell myself, taking a deep breath.
I put on the mask, tying the ribbons carefully at the back of my head, and somehow, the mask gives me a strange kind of courage. Maybe tonight I can pretend to be someone else.
I step out of the room, and the music and laughter hit me instantly. The house feels alive with gold lights everywhere, soft chatter, and perfume floating through the air.
I walk down the staircase slowly, the hem of my gown brushing the steps, every chandelier sparkling like the night sky.
I keep my head low and head straight for the bar, the only safe place in a room like this.
“Champagne, please,” I tell the bartender quietly, and he nods, sliding me a glass.
The first sip burns a little, but it helps, giving the courage to pretend to admire the room while scanning for Nathaniel.
I spot him near the far wall, surrounded by men in suits, drink in hand, mask perfectly in place.
I turn away quickly and take another sip, hoping, praying he doesn’t notice me. I would appreciate it if he kept his distance tonight because I don’t know what I might say to him when my head is filled with champagne.
“Fuck!” I gasp under my glass when my eyes spot Eleanor striding from the kitchen with a bunch of waiters following her.
She looks stunning, of course, wrapped in diamonds and a navy blue gown, but she has that same cold expression she always wears.
I turn quickly, pretending to order another drink before she can see me, and she passes behind me, leaving a trail of her expensive perfume.
“That was close.” I breathe out slowly, before a small smile tugs my lips. “First win of the night.” I whisper to myself and finish the rest of the drink in one go.
I grab another one, and another, starting to feel a little buzzed, and before I know it, I begin to enjoy myself.
“I can see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” a cold, calculated voice comes from behind me, and I blink dramatically, letting out a frustrated sigh.
Figures. Joy is always short-lived around here.
He grabs my hand, and I turn to face him, his eyes fierce behind the mask.
“I’ve been watching you,” he mocks, leaning forward to make sure no one hears him scold me. “That’s your fifth glass. Planning to get drunk and embarrass us tonight?”
I pull my hand away, my eyes darting around the room. “I’m not drunk, Nathaniel.”
“You better not be.” His tone hardens. “If you make a scene, I swear…”
“What, Nathaniel?” I cut him off, surprising us both. “What could you possibly do that you haven’t already done?”
He blinks, stunned, not expecting me to push back, and his face softens for a split second before hardening again as he clenches his jaw and steps toward me.
“Go back to your room. You already reek of alcohol.”
I shake my head quickly, the bubbles giving me courage I don’t usually have. “I’m here for Harriette. I’m not going anywhere.”
He’s about to say something else when the entire room quiets.
The music fades, conversations stop, and all eyes turn toward the grand entrance.
A woman steps inside. She is tall, beautiful, graceful, and every inch of her is glowing under the chandelier’s light, her red gown flowing behind her like fire.
The crowd parts for her without a word, like she is royalty, and she begins walking towards where Nathaniel and I are standing.
I follow the movement, and when I turn to Nathaniel, his jaw is tight, and his eyes are fixed on her like he’s seen a ghost.
“Amanda?” he breathes.
My heart stops. I know that name.
It’s her. His ex-fiancée. The woman he has refused to let go after all these years.
BETTYA low, gravelly murmur drifts through the dark, and my eyelids flutter.For a disoriented second, my exhausted brain tries to convince me I am still trapped in a fever dream. The dream where Nathaniel was here. Sitting on the very edge of this couch, the scent of his expensive cologne wrapping around me as he held a spoon to my lips.I push the thought away and take in a deep breath. It’s then I realize the air is different. The sickly-sweet smell of dying roses is gone, and it’s been replaced by a crisp night breeze that washes over my damp skin, filling my lungs with clean oxygen.I blink my eyes fully open and also can’t help but realize the blinding pressure that was crushing my skull has receded to a dull, manageable ache.My body feels too light as well. Free. When I look down, the heavy, fleece robe is gone, together with the hoodie. I am stripped down to nothing but a thin, worn-out cotton t-shirt, my sweatpants, and my socks.I swing my legs off the edge of the couch, m
The tension in my shoulders drops, and I take another step back to give her space. In the process, a massive rose thorn drives straight through the fabric of my trousers, biting violently into my calf."Fuck," I hiss, stumbling sideways. "We really need to get rid of these." I bend over, aggressively rubbing the stinging prick on my leg, and when I look up, the sight knocks the breath straight out of my lungs.Betty is chuckling. It’s a weak, raspy sound that quickly devolves into a cough, but the corners of her eyes remain crinkled.I straighten up, completely stunned. "That was funny to watch, huh?"She coughs into her hand, hiding her mouth, shaking her head. "You brought that on yourself. Who buys two thousand, five hundred, and fifty-five roses?" Her tone carries a sharp, dry hint of sarcasm, but as she lowers her hand, I see a small, genuine smile break across her pale face.I should feel insulted by the jab, but I don't. She laughed. At my expense, sure, but she laughed. And it
NATHANIELMy gaze pulls away from the roses down to Betty, and she is now leaning against my side, looking at the roses. She then tilts her head up to look at me, and her expression is perfectly blank, but her glossy eyes scream exactly what she doesn't have the breath to say: "Yeah. A bit much, isn't it?"”I know.” That’s all I say before I carefully step over a pile of wilting petals and walk her to the couch.I ease her down onto the cushions and snatch the heavy throw blanket that had slipped off the couch and drape it over her trembling shoulders, tucking the edges firmly up to her neck.She doesn't speak, but her glassy green eyes track my every movement, her expression tight and completely guarded, as if she expects me to disappear at any time—or worse, as if she wishes I would.Before the silence can crush the remaining oxygen in the room, I turn sharply."The bags." My heavy boots crush some of the roses into the hardwood as I stride back to the front door, thorns violently s
NATHANIELThe scorching afternoon heat bakes the roof of my car, but inside the cabin, my blood is running cold.I am parked directly across the street from her apartment building, and for the last thirty minutes, I have done nothing but stare at her front door. That’s why I came here alone, just in case my nerves shattered and I needed to put the car in drive and flee before ever making it inside.It has been over a month since I looked into her eyes and told her I loved her. Over a month of suffocating silence. A month of getting nothing from her. Showing up here is a blatant violation of my promise to step back. It is a massive gamble, one that could very well end with her slamming the door in my face.I tear my gaze away from the white and grey five-story building and look at the passenger seat.Plastic bags bury the leather, because on my way here, I had stopped at a pharmacy and essentially bought out the aisles—flu medicine, painkillers, cough syrup, electrolytes. And behind th
NATHANIELI pull the phone away from my ear and stare at the darkened screen. Betty is sick?My grip tightens around the glass in my other hand until it twitches under the pressure. “Where the hell is she sick? Is it serious? Has she gone to the hospital?”“No. Stop it,” I tell myself, squeezing my eyes shut. “She is fine. She has someone taking care of her. Rhys must be there. It’s no longer your concern. She has her people.”I toss the phone back onto the desk and down the rest of the scotch before I sit back down and open my laptop. I actually hover my hand over the keyboard, genuinely debating calling Martha to ask her what the hell I am supposed to do with this suffocating panic. But that would be too pathetic. I have a company to reclaim.I force the laptop shut again, grab my suit jacket, and walk out to my waiting car.Rhys was supposed to be there today. We are supposed to co-host the meeting, but there is no way he will leave her bedside. He is taking care of her. And as muc
NATHANIELMy brain feels like it has been put through a meat grinder.I just finished my fifth virtual therapy session with Martha, and all I want to do is put my fist through the mahogany wall. I thought these sessions were supposed to make you feel better. Instead, I feel like I am being flayed alive by a middle-aged woman in a beige cardigan.After my absolute meltdown in the closet a few nights ago, Harriette suggested I see a professional. Naturally, I thought it was a ridiculous, insulting thing to say. I already knew exactly what my problem was, and I certainly didn't need a stranger with a notepad pointing it out.But after spending the entire night suffocating in my own misery on the closet floor, I realized my way had cost me my entire world, and also, I had nothing left to lose.The next morning, an unmarked business card magically appeared on my nightstand. Harriette’s doing, and I held the thick card in my hand for a long time, just staring at the therapist's phone number
BETTYI freeze outside the door, my breath caught somewhere between my chest and my throat.I force myself to look in, and the sight steals whatever air was left in my lungs.The room looks like a battlefield, books scattered like fallen soldiers, and papers littering the floor in torn, angry flurri
BETTYAfter a full day of dust, drills, and paint samples, I still feel like the construction site clings to my skin.My fingers smell faintly of fresh cement and marker ink, and my back aches from leaning over blueprints all day.I should have gone home to shower, but Lucy can be very persuasive.S
BETTYI’ve been avoiding Rhys since the day he found me at the cemetery.The way his arms wrapped around me, and how I clung to him longer than I should have, hasn’t left my mind since.He didn’t pull away. He didn’t say a word. He just let me stay there, quietly breaking against him, and it didn’t
BETTYMy fingers wrap around the coffee cup, trying to siphon warmth from it, but the chill still clings to my skin.The cold this morning feels sharper, like the world itself is bracing for something.I am sitting by the window of a small coffee shop downtown, the scent of roasted beans and vanill







