//Ch 2//

[Isabella Hayes]

There’s a saying my best friend uses constantly.

‘The public never forgets, so be careful what you do around them.’

You stumble once on stage, they’ll bring it up every single chance they get. They love to humble people at the top.

Cheat on your wealthy husband with a busboy? And watch how they’ll mock you for the rest of your life.

Aurelia is one of the worst places to be humiliated. This is a city where the random man on the street could be a billionaire. The rich, the vastly wealthy, and the poor live amongst each other.

They don’t mingle. Each one feels disgust toward the other. But they have one thing in common: they love to mock someone.

The video of Adrian walking out during my speech went viral, because of course it did. Thank god we met our donation goal before that happened because no one cared about the Pollen Association for Lung Cancer Research, the second my husband decided his phone call was more important. All they could talk about was how Millionaire Adrian Cole walked out on his wife during her speech.

Clips of the night, my stunned face, and Adrian’s smile, were trending before the night ended.

With the most famous caption being: Even he’s tired of her BS.

The drive back to the estate was one of the worst ones of my life. I tried calling Adrian throughout the night, but he declined each time.

I’m not joking. He didn’t let it ring out; he declined. I know it because each call would register for two seconds before being cut off. It was clear he didn’t want to talk.

I couldn’t sleep; I spent the entire night going over the event. Wondering how the man who kissed my cheek, looked at me with so much love and passion, decided to take a call when he knew cameras were on.

My family was in the crowd; they must have had a blast. I’d begged them to come. I’d appealed to my mother, reminding her how devastated she’d been when Dad died after years of fighting the cancer.

She agreed to come only if I’d invite my stepfather and stepsisters. I thought nothing of it. For once, they’d see me in my element. Shining on stage, talking about the loss of my father and how it had impacted my life.

Instead, they saw my husband humiliate me in the worst way possible.

Those thoughts wouldn’t let me rest. By the time the sun had risen, I’d called Adrian twenty-six times and texted double that number. He’d never acted like this before. Part of me wondered if someone had died, but that didn’t explain the smile.

The bedroom door opens at around 6 AM, and my head snaps up from where I’m resting on the pillows.

I stared at the face of the man I loved.

“Isabella, love. How was the event?” He looked like he’d had the best night of his life while my name was being dragged all over the internet. My shocked face was being compared to that of a kicked puppy.

“Where have you been?” I asked, louder than I’d meant to. I swung my feet onto the floor, standing and clutching my phone like a lifeline.

His smile drops, and I wait for him to say something. To give me an explanation or an apology. Instead, he shakes his head. “It’s nothing serious. Don’t worry,” then he disappeared into the bathroom.

I stood there, stunned for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. He could have said anything to me, and he chose to say it was nothing serious.

Nothing serious. I spent my entire night skimming through comments, people laughing, A-list celebrities making jokes about us having marital problems, just for him to say it wasn’t serious.

He’d walked out, did not answer any of my calls all night, for something that wasn’t SERIOUS?

Surely this is a joke… a bad dream, maybe?

I made my way back to bed and sat down. Adrian returned thirty minutes later, having freshly showered. He had a towel secured around his waist, and a smaller one he was using to dry his hair.

“Do we have any plans for today?” His inquiry surprised me because he hadn’t even apologized for what he did.

I cleared my throat and told myself not to start a fight. I’m not the type to argue. Yelling always leads to me crying, so I tend to avoid it. Choosing the non-confrontational route.

Taking in short breaths, I counted to ten in my head before I spoke.

“Yes, we have dinner with my family.” I was dreading it. I wanted to fake being sick to get out of it. I only accepted it because I assumed I’d be happy after the charity gala. Not humiliated.

My cellphone vibrated, and I shot a look at it.

Naomi: I just came online. Tell me why you’re trending with the face of a wounded puppy?

Naomi: He'd better have a damn good reason, Isabella!

Great, now my friend has seen it too. Dread and sorrow were slowly consuming my thoughts.

“Oh, okay. I’ll pick you up at six, and we can go together.” Adrian’s words cut through the despair, and I felt a wave of relief.

“Really?” My voice comes out small. I don’t know what to make of his behaviour.

“Of course.” He looked at me like I was the weird one. “Why are you so surprised?”

He stepped closer, and I could smell the scent of his shampoo and body wash. I swallowed and waited as he brought his face closer. I knew he was going to kiss me, but before he could, I reminded myself that he didn’t really explain where he’d been.

I thought of just turning away, but that seemed too excessive. My body took control, and I yawned, exhaustion finally catching up with me.

Adrian froze, watching me intensely. “Tired?”

“Yeah, I had a long night.” I managed to hide the bitterness. I placed my phone on the bedside table and then crawled under the covers. I felt his stare bore into the back of my skull, but I ignored it.

I wouldn’t argue with him, but this humiliation won’t fade overnight. And he doesn’t just get to come back and pretend he did nothing wrong.