7
“I, Gabriel Whitmore, promise again to the world that I’ll devote my entire life to Serena Sterling.” Gabriel’s impassioned words filled the stage
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as he drew a massive diamond ring from his pocket and reached for Serena’s finger.
“Serena, I-” His declaration was interrupted by an explosive chorus of boos.
Both Gabriel and Serena froze, stunned, as the adoring gazes of the crowd shifted into searing disdain.
“Oh my God, Gabriel’s already married!”
“So this whole thing with Serena was just a publicity stunt? He’s been parading around with her while he’s got a wife? Disgusting.”
“Doesn’t that make Serena the other woman?”
The spotlight, once a warm glow of adoration, now turned into merciless daggers aimed straight at them.
Their agent rushed onto the stage, whispering urgently in Gabriel’s ear. That was when he learned the truth: someone had leaked his marriage to Alexandra “Lexa” Hawthorne online.
It was over.
Both Gabriel and Serena had the same thought: their carefully curated facade had crumbled into ruins.
The once–dazzling star couple stood frozen, faces pale with panic as the sea of jeers and insults overwhelmed them. The cameras captured their every stunned expression for millions to see.
Watching Gabriel’s pallor deepen, I couldn’t help but smile.
I had once loved him so deeply that I swallowed every ounce of pain, allowing his betrayals to scar me in silence. I couldn’t bear to see him
fall.
But that love was long gone. The humiliation and neglect I’d endured deserved repayment–in full.
Gabriel, how’s my little gift?
The live broadcast of the red carpet event was abruptly cut off. Gabriel and Serena fled the stage like criminals, shamed and ridiculed.
I turned off the TV, silenced my phone, and slept peacefully for the first time in years.
For Gabriel and Serena, it was just the beginning of a sleepless, tormenting night.
The next morning, my doorbell rang incessantly. When I opened it, there was Gabriel, his face haggard and streaked with anguish. His bloodshot
eyes glared at me.
“Lexa! Why did you do this?” His voice cracked as he yelled, his hair streaked with silver overnight.
I met his gaze calmly. “Did I lie? Didn’t you have a wife?”
Gabriel let out a choked, furious growl. “But why did you go to the media? I told you–just one more year. You held on for three; couldn’t you wait a little longer?”
He still didn’t understand where he’d gone wrong.
I laughed softly, shaking my head. “The first year, you told me to wait while you and Serena soaked up the fan hype. The second year, you said you’d transition those fans into solo supporters. I waited. And waited. But then you planned a wedding with her.”
“What’s the difference between that and being married? You gave her everything–while I, your actual wife, got nothing.”
Gabriel’s lips trembled as he stammered, “You’re jealous of Serena, aren’t you?”
“Jealous?” I sneered. “Gabriel, do you realize you nearly killed someone? You destroyed everything Serena and I worked for with your
bitterness.”
He pressed on, his tone frantic. “Serena’s depression resurfaced because of the online hate. She overdosed on sleeping pills last night–she’s
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labeled a homewrecker, and her depression’s spiraling–this could kill her!”
He rant
on, desperate to defend Serena. His words felt like daggers in my ears, each one cutting deeper than the last.
Finally, I raised my hand. “Gabriel, shut up.”
He paused, st I turned and retrieved something from a drawer, tossing it into his hands.
“What’s this? More proof of your spite?” he snapped, but as he glanced at the papers, his words faltered.
His face went white as realization hit.
“While you’ve been busy mourning Serena’s depression, did you ever notice your wife was diagnosed with severe bipolar disorder?” My voice was steady, though my hands trembled. “Did you ever notice me trembling, crying myself to sleep night after night?”
The memories of isolation and despair welled up, unbidden. My voice cracked, and tears slipped down my face.
Gabriel’s hands shook as he gripped the papers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I laughed bitterly. “I left those medical reports on the bedside table for a week. Did you ever bother to look?”
I had tried once to share my struggles. His response? A dismissive, “If you’re sick, get treated.”
But when Serena had cramps, Gabriel woke in the middle of the night to care for her. And me? I learned to endure in silence.
Wiping my tears, I met his stunned gaze. “So, Gabriel, was this the love you promised me? To take care of me for life?”
His face crumpled, pale and stricken. After a long silence, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Then, he turned and fled, the door swinging shut behind him.
