Chapter 7
Ellie POV
The Pierre Hotel ballroom was exactly as I remembered it: a cavern of gold leaf, crystal chandeliers, and the suffocating, cloying scent of expensive perfume.
I wore emerald green.
It was a calculated strike. Marcus hated green. He said it was too bold, too attention-seeking. He preferred me in neutrals—beige, cream, soft pinks that allowed me to fade seamlessly into the wallpaper.
Tonight, I had no intention of blending in.
Julian offered me his arm. He looked striking in a midnight-blue tuxedo, his presence a solid, grounding anchor beside me.
"Ready?" he asked.
"No," I said. "Let’s go."
We walked in. Heads didn't just turn; they snapped. I felt the ripple of whispers move through the room like a sudden breeze through dry wheat.
*Is that Ellie?*
*I thought she was in rehab.*
*Look at that dress.*
*Who is she with?*
I kept my chin high. My heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird, but my face remained carved from stone.
Then, I saw them.
They were holding court near the champagne tower. Marcus looked impeccable, as always. And Izzy... Izzy was in white. Of course. A white, strapless gown that looked suspiciously like a wedding dress.
She was laughing at something a guest had said, her hand resting possessively on Marcus’s chest. The massive yellow diamond on her finger caught the chandelier light, sending fractured rainbows dancing across his lapel.
Chloe materialized out of the crowd. She looked fierce in red.
"You came," she whispered, squeezing my hand. "And you look dangerous."
"Where do we go?" I asked.
Chloe tilted her head toward the happy couple. "Into the fire."
She linked her arm with mine and pulled me forward. Julian stayed on my other side, a silent, imposing bodyguard.
As we approached, the circle around Marcus and Izzy parted. It was like the Red Sea, but with significantly more Botox.
Izzy saw me first. Her smile faltered, then stretched into something sharp and predatory.
"Ellie!" she exclaimed. Her voice was high, sweet, and utterly synthetic.
Marcus turned.
When his eyes landed on me, he froze. He looked at the green dress. He looked at Julian’s hand on my elbow. His jaw tightened.
"Hello, Izzy," I said, my voice steady. "Marcus."
"I heard you were... recovering," Izzy said, stepping forward. She reached out as if to hug me, but stopped short. "We were so worried."
"I bet," I said.
Jessica, Izzy’s shadow, popped up from behind her. "We’re just glad you’re okay, Ellie. We were all saying how gracious it is of you to come, considering... everything."
*Considering my husband left me to die in an elevator?*
I didn't say it. I just smiled.
"We should put the past behind us," Izzy said, looking up at Marcus. "Right, baby? We want everyone to be happy. Even Ellie."
She looked at me with pity. It was a weaponized kind of pity.
Marcus cleared his throat. He stepped closer to Izzy, his arm sliding around her waist. It was a protective gesture; he was shielding her from me.
"We’re moving forward," Marcus said. His voice was cold. "We hope you can too, Ellie."
"I am," I said.
Chloe grabbed a waiter passing by. "Champagne! A toast!"
She shoved a glass into my hand.
"To the happy couple!" someone shouted from the back.
Marcus looked down at Izzy. His expression softened. It was the look I had once starved for. The look that said she was the only person in the room.
"To Izzy," he said, raising his glass. "The love of my life."
The room cooed.
I felt a wave of nausea rise in my throat. It wasn't jealousy. It was revulsion. I was watching a play I had auditioned for but never got the part.
"I’ll give her everything," Marcus announced, his voice booming slightly. He had been drinking; a subtle flush stained his cheeks. "She deserves the world."
Izzy beamed. She trailed a manicured finger down his jaw. "You spoil me."
"I have to," he said. "To make up for lost time."
*Lost time.* The three years he spent with me.
The crowd laughed. They loved it. They ate up the redemption arc of the star-crossed lovers finding their way back to each other. I was just the villain who had kept them apart.
I felt Julian’s hand tighten on my arm. He knew I was reaching my limit.
"Excuse me," I said.
I handed my untouched champagne to a passing waiter and turned away.
"Ellie, wait," Chloe said.
"I just need a minute," I said.
I walked toward the corridor that led to the restrooms. I needed air. I needed to splash cold water on my face and scrub off the slime of their happiness.
The hallway was dimly lit and quiet. The roar of the party faded behind me.
I leaned against the cool wall, closing my eyes.
*Breathe, Ellie. Just breathe.*
Footsteps approached. Heavy, uneven footsteps.
I opened my eyes.
It was Marcus. And Izzy.
They hadn't seen me. They had turned into a small alcove just a few feet away, hidden by a large potted palm.
Marcus swayed slightly. He had definitely had too much to drink.
"You’re doing great, baby," Izzy cooed. Her voice was different now. Sharper. Less sweet.
"I hate this," Marcus muttered. "I hate these people."
"You love them," she said. "They love us. Look at them, Marcus. They’re eating it up."
He leaned against the wall, loosening his tie. "I just... I saw her."
"Ellie?" Izzy scoffed. "What about her? She looks tacky in that green."
"She looked... alive," Marcus said, his voice thick with confusion.
"Stop it," Izzy snapped. "Don't do this. You chose me. Remember?"
"I know," he said. "I chose you. I always chose you. Even when I was with her."
I held my breath, frozen in the shadows.
Izzy laughed softly. It was a cruel, jagged sound. "I know you did. That was the fun part. Watching her try so hard when she never stood a chance."
Marcus slid down the wall a bit. "I used her, Iz. I used her to make you jealous. To make you grow up."
"I know," Izzy said. "And it worked."
"But..." Marcus paused. He looked at Izzy, his eyes glassy. "Did I go too far? The elevator..."
"Oh, shut up about the elevator," Izzy hissed. "She’s fine. Look at her. She’s here, isn’t she? She’s like a cockroach, Marcus. She survives everything."
Marcus chuckled darkly. "Yeah. A cockroach."
He reached for Izzy's hand. "I’d do anything for you, Izzy. You know that."
"I know."
"I’d burn it all down. I’d marry a woman I didn't love just to pass the time until you were ready."
The words hung in the air like toxic smoke.
*To pass the time.*
My marriage wasn't a tragedy. It was a waiting room.
I stood there in the dark, my heart pounding so hard I thought they would hear it. But they didn't. They were in their own world, a world built on the ruins of mine.
Marcus leaned in, his forehead resting against hers.
"For you, I’d do anything," he said, his words slurring. "Even marry a placeholder."
I felt my blood turn to ice.
My body went rigid.
I wasn't sad anymore. The sadness had evaporated, replaced by a clarity so sharp it could cut glass.
I backed away, silently. One step. Two steps.
I turned and walked back toward the party.
I wasn't going to the bathroom.
I was leaving.
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