Chapter 3
I clicked on the video and saw it was taken in a booth at a bar. Ariyah Gutierrez leaned tipsily against Jaxson Gardner, wearing a delicate Victorian-style necklace around her neck. It was the heirloom my mom had left to me before she passed away, which I had given to Jaxson as a symbol of our engagement. He had claimed he lost it three years ago, and I'd seen him anguished over it for a long time. Yet here it was, around Ariyah's neck.
I quickly headed downstairs, caught a cab, and raced to the bar using the location from the video. I wasn’t planning to see Jaxson again, but that necklace was irreplaceable, and I was determined to get it back. By matching the scene in the video, I soon found the booth where Jaxson sat. He was messing around with a woman’s bra draped over his face, playing a silly game of peek-a-boo. His hands flailed about and accidentally brushed against me.
"Ariyah, have you put on some weight lately? You feel so soft and squishy," Jaxson muttered, oblivious to the fact he was touching the wrong person, spewing shameless remarks. Ariyah let out a shriek at the sight of me, but Jaxson remained engrossed in his game. "No need to be shy; it’s not the first time, is it?"
The bra, still warm from its previous owner, slipped from his face. Jaxson’s eyes widened as he realized that the person he was touching wasn’t Ariyah but me, standing there, seething with anger, trembling with fury. Instead of panicking, he seemed indifferent, even dismissive. "Lilah Gardner, didn’t you swear you’d never come looking for me again? It’s only been a few days, and you’re already breaking your promise?"
"I was just joking around with Ariyah; do you really need to glare at me like some angry monster?" Jaxson continued. I didn’t respond, grinding my teeth in frustration. "You know that necklace is the only heirloom my mom left me. Lying about losing it was bad enough, but giving it to her—what’s that supposed to mean?"
I reached for Ariyah's neck, trying to get back my necklace. Jaxson halted me with one hand, shoving me to the floor. "Lilah Gardner, you gave me that necklace, so it belongs to me now. Do I need to inform you about what I do with my stuff? If you came to make up, just say so. No need to make up excuses."
The impact from the push left me dizzy, my forehead accidentally hitting the edge of a table, starting to bleed badly. Seeing this, Jaxson became even more smug. He teasingly removed the necklace from Ariyah’s neck and tossed it into a crowded area. "Want it back? Then crawl around and find it. Ariyah doesn’t want junk like this; only you would get worked up over it."
Ignoring the pain, panic surged through me as I crawled into the dance floor, terrified the necklace might get crushed by the crowd. Jaxson laughed loudly at my humiliating state. "Lilah Gardner, you’re acting like a fool. You better find it quick because I’m heading to another spot soon."
For nearly twenty minutes, I searched amidst the throng of people, but came up empty-handed, and got accidentally stepped on a few times as well. Jaxson had vanished by then. With the help of Marisol, my best friend, I pushed through the pain and went to the hospital. My forehead needed stitches, and my right hand had a fractured finger, swollen and bruised.
Marisol looked at me with deep concern, her face filled with regret. "Lilah, I ran into Jaxson at the bar by chance. I wish I hadn’t sent you that message. I should have found someone else to deal with him instead. Guys like him aren’t worth your kindness. You’ve figured that out now, right? Don’t let him back into your life again."
I shook my head, forcing a weak smile. From the moment Jaxson first ditched our wedding, Marisol was frustrated by my refusal to end this toxic relationship, avoiding contact with me for almost half a year. This time, she reached out because she was simply disgusted by Jaxson’s behavior. Tears welled up as I thought about how I’d lost valuable friendships over someone unworthy, repeatedly sacrificing my dignity.
Though my realization came late, I was grateful for the chance to make things right. I held Marisol’s hand, sharing my plans to move abroad. Even though she was hesitant, Marisol supported my decision, understanding that repeating the same mistake would only mean I'd earned the consequences.
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