Chapter 2 - The Exit
Chaos erupted in the ballroom. Voices overlapping in shock, outrage, and frantic whispering. Eleanor was surrounded by her socialite friends, frantically trying to explain that I was a hysterical, lying gold-digger, but her trembling hands and flushed face told the real story.
I didn't look back. I marched straight to the back of the room, near the kitchen doors, where my parents were standing. My mother had tears in her eyes, but they weren't tears of shame anymore. My father, the man who had worked twelve-hour shifts at the auto shop to make sure I could go to college, was standing taller than I had seen him in years.
“Let’s go home,” I said gently.
“Maya, wait!”
Julian’s voice rang out behind me. I turned to see him pushing his way through the crowd, his designer tuxedo looking suddenly ridiculous on him. He reached out to grab my arm, but before his fingers could even brush my silk sleeve, my father stepped in front of me.
“Don't touch my daughter,” my father said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried the gravelly, undeniable weight of a man who worked with his hands and didn't take disrespect lightly.
Julian recoiled. “Mr. Lin, please. Maya is just stressed. It’s a misunderstanding.”
“The only misunderstanding was me thinking you were a man,” my father replied coldly.
“You can't do this, Maya!” Julian pleaded, looking past my dad. “The embarrassment! The press! My mother's reputation will be ruined! And what about the money? We had an agreement!”
“The agreement was a marriage based on love and respect, Julian. You broke that when you put my parents by the trash cans,” I said. “As for the money? My lawyers will be in touch on Monday to recover the funds you embezzled from our joint account.”
I pushed open the heavy double doors leading to the lobby. The valet was already waiting.
May you like
For months, Julian had mocked my father’s profession. What he didn't know was that my father specialized in restoring classic luxury cars. Waiting at the curb wasn't a standard taxi, but a flawless, midnight-blue 1968 Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow—one of my dad's prized restorations.
The valet opened the door. I helped my mother in, got in the back seat, and my father took the wheel. As we pulled away from the venue, leaving Julian standing on the curb in a cloud of exhaust, I finally let out a breath I felt like I had been holding for a year.
