Chapter 8 - The Ghost of the Past
Six months after the wedding incident, the coalition hosted its annual charity gala.
It was a highly publicized event, designed to raise funds for pediatric burn units across the state.
I was tasked with giving the keynote speech, a prospect that terrified and thrilled me simultaneously.
I wore a stunning emerald green gown, designed specifically to showcase my scars rather than hide them.
The ballroom was packed with wealthy donors, politicians, and local celebrities.
As I mingled with the crowd, feeling confident and radiant, a familiar, grating voice shattered my peace.
“Well, don't you look incredibly pleased with yourself.”
I turned my wheelchair around to find Chloe standing near the entrance.
She looked significantly different than the glowing bride from six months ago.
Her designer clothes looked slightly worn, her hair lacked its usual expensive shine, and her eyes were filled with bitter resentment.
“Chloe,” I acknowledged calmly, refusing to let her see any fear.
“How did you even get in here?”
“I know people, Maya,” she sneered, though the desperation in her voice betrayed her.
“You ruined my life, you know that?” she hissed, stepping closer.
“My sponsors left, Liam left, and Mom and Dad are broke trying to pay off my legal fees from the broken contracts.”
I looked at her, truly looked at her, and felt nothing but a profound sense of pity.
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“I didn't ruin your life, Chloe,” I stated firmly, my voice carrying over the soft jazz music playing in the background.
“Your own vanity and cruelty ruined your life.”
