In the rearview mirror, I saw filthy hands drag her into a tattered hut.
Now I knew that the entire scene had been a show for me.
Wiping away tears that burned with hatred, I smiled bitterly.
He must’ve forgotten. I might’ve played the good girl for years, but I was raised to be ruthless and fearless.
When I stepped out of the fitting room, the clerk noticed my pale face. “Miss Wells, are you all right? Do you need any help?”
I looked up at the center of the hall, where my wedding dress hung, a one-of-a-kind piece Grayson had custom-made for me.
Just an hour ago, I’d imagined every bit of happiness our future could hold when I first saw it. Now, it looked like a blade, sharp, gleaming, and twisted right through my heart.
Pain spread through me like wildfire. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.
“Burn it,” I said quietly, pointing at the dress.
Without waiting for her response, I walked out.
By the time Grayson came home, it was past midnight. He hugged me from behind just as I turned off my phone, the same phone that had just received five gigabytes of videos and photos.
“You didn’t like the wedding dress?” he asked softly. “Why’d you have them burn it?”
“It was dirty,” I replied flatly.