Chapter 2: Blame and Betrayal

“All the blame is mine alone. I was drunk—I took advantage of Natalie. She was forced by me, and I’ll take responsibility.”

Derek’s voice was hoarse.

The words sounded rehearsed, every syllable measured. He stood in front of the rumpled bed, back rigid as if facing a firing squad instead of scandalized parents and classmates. Sweat dotted his hairline, but his gaze stayed steady—even as the tension thickened.

He stood tall and stiff. Aside from a flicker of panic, he was now perfectly calm and resolute.

I watched him, searching for a sign he’d reach for me, or just look my way. Instead, his eyes locked on the wall behind Caleb, as if waiting for judgment to fall.

Only his collar was open, and even his hair was a mess.

That collar—usually crisp, buttoned to the top, the way his mother insisted—hung loose around his neck. His chest was flushed, either from shame or the humiliation of the moment. He kept swallowing, Adam’s apple bobbing.

It was a sorry sight I’d never seen before.

Derek was always the picture of Southern composure—never a hair out of place, never a wrinkle in his khakis. Seeing him so undone made my stomach twist with fear and heartbreak.

In my memory, he was always measured and dignified, never this untidy.

I flashed back to formal dinners, the way he’d guide me with a hand on my back, his smile gentle but distant. That was the Derek I knew—not this stranger, blinking in the harsh gym lights.

On the floor lay a torn, pale yellow dress.

Natalie’s dress—a delicate, sunlit thing Mom had picked out—now crumpled and ruined on the sticky linoleum, the torn hem catching the light. My heart clenched.

Anyone with eyes could see what this looked like.

The whispers in the hallway made it clear: nobody was giving the benefit of the doubt. Even the janitor, passing with his mop, shot us a look full of pity and morbid curiosity.

Behind Derek, Natalie—my younger sister—huddled under the covers like a frightened deer.

She clutched the sheets, shoulders shaking. Mascara smudged, faint tracks on her cheeks, she looked up at Derek with wide, glassy eyes. For a moment, she seemed so fragile, as if she could shatter with a word.

After Derek’s confession, she looked relieved, the blush on her cheeks still blooming, her watery eyes sneaking glances at him.

Her lips trembled, pink and bitten. She looked at Derek with something between gratitude and longing—a silent thank you, or something deeper. Jealousy and confusion twisted in my chest.

Among all the stares, some were shocked, frowning at the disgraceful scene.

I could feel their eyes burning into me—teachers whispering, girls covering their mouths in horror, boys nudging each other and laughing. A scandal perfect for Savannah’s rumor mill.

But more glances were strangely sympathetic—directed at me.

Most didn’t hide their pity—like I was a stray dog, not a girl whose life had just fallen apart. Some looked away, embarrassed, but most watched with guilty satisfaction.

After all, everyone in Savannah knew the dignified Derek Wyatt, son of the influential Wyatt family, for some unknown reason, insisted on marrying me—a daughter from his father’s second marriage—against his family’s wishes.

The Wyatt family’s reputation stretched from courthouse to country club. I was always the odd one out—Rachel Shen, the stepdaughter, always one mistake from exile. The recognition flickered in their eyes: the girl who got lucky, now her luck had run out.

My face went deathly pale, nails digging into my palms as I struggled to stay upright.

My heart thundered so hard I could barely think. I fought the urge to run, legs locked in place by shame. The scent of cheap roses from the Formal drifted over, sickly sweet.

My older brother, Caleb Shen, rushed in, eyes bloodshot: “Bastard! What did you do to my sister?!”

He barreled past everyone, fists clenched, voice echoing off cinderblock walls. For a second, I thought he’d actually punch Derek. His protectiveness was a live wire in the room.

Without another word, he grabbed Derek by the collar, so angry he actually laughed: “Take responsibility? How? I thought you were a gentleman, but you’re worse than an animal!”

The hallway erupted—someone shouted for Coach Myers, others filmed on their phones, always ready to catch a scandal. Caleb’s voice broke with betrayal, and I flinched at his fury.

“You ruined my little sister’s reputation, and you think you can brush it off with ‘I was drunk’ and ‘I’ll take responsibility’?”

He yanked Derek closer, spittle flying. The crowd pressed in tighter, feeding on the drama, while I wished the ground would swallow me whole.

I used to be the one who’d step in, smooth things over with a brittle smile, remind everyone to keep it quiet for the sake of family honor. I’d learned young that silence was safer than outrage.

But this humiliation was too much.

My throat closed. The shame pressed down, so heavy I could barely breathe. I couldn’t force myself to play peacemaker—not now, not when the world had flipped upside down in one night.

Yet I stood frozen, feet rooted, my gaze landing on the lines of imaginary comments that popped up as soon as the door opened—like a Twitter thread gone viral, comments popping up in my mind, brutal and unfiltered.

[Heh, is this the first meeting between the main couple? They were drugged and did all that—so wild. But the guy just ran off and left the girl—kinda lame.]

[No choice, the guy’s from an enemy family. If he doesn’t run, is he supposed to just wait to get caught? Luckily, the second lead comes to the rescue, but why is he engaged to the scheming girl?]

[Isn’t it because the side girl schemed to cling to him? Now Derek finally understands his true feelings.]

[She’s getting between the second lead and the main girl—how is that different from being a homewrecker?]

[Second lead is so responsible! If he doesn’t love her, who would? I’m shipping Derek-Natalie first.]

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could block out those invisible, brutal judgments. I felt exposed, every thought I’d ever tried to hide up for public scrutiny.

I latched onto one burning question—a lifeline in the chaos. The logic didn’t add up, and cold clarity cut through the haze.

Derek was taking responsibility for Natalie’s reputation. But the one who ruined her reputation wasn’t him at all.

A chill crawled up my spine. Derek always hated lies, always defended the truth. Why would he cover for Natalie like this, when he’d sworn to protect me above everyone else?

How could that be?

It was like watching a chess game where the pieces switched sides. My mind spun with confusion and a new kind of dread. I gripped my dress, knuckles white.

Didn’t he know I’d never gotten along with Natalie?

We’d grown up in the same house but different worlds. She was the golden girl, I the afterthought. Our fights were legend, our truce uneasy. He’d seen her cruelty toward me more than once—shouldn’t he know better?

She’d cut up my homecoming dress, poured honey in my shoes, and laughed as I cried. Derek saw it all, his jaw set in anger. He told me I deserved better—that he’d always have my back. Now this?

He’d even sworn he’d love only me, proposing to the Shen family to marry me. Our engagement was set.

I remembered him kneeling on the back porch, ring box trembling, promising nothing and no one would ever come between us. Our families had finally agreed—reluctantly. We were supposed to be untouchable.

Now, how could he throw it all away for Natalie?

Did he not understand how easily a woman’s reputation is ruined in Savannah? That the stain never really washes out?

I didn’t want to believe it.

I bit my cheek, wishing I could wake up. But the hurt was too real, the betrayal too sharp.

When Derek’s gaze accidentally met mine at the back, he froze. Guilt flashed in his eyes, but he clenched his fist, face full of determination.

He couldn’t look at me for more than a second. His eyes darted away, lips pressed thin. Whatever he was protecting, it wasn’t me.

It felt like a punch to the gut, and my heart plummeted.

My mouth went dry. I wanted to scream, but all I managed was a shaky breath. The world spun as if gravity itself had betrayed me.

Suddenly, scenes flashed before my eyes—a montage of a future both real and impossibly cruel. My life, already shaky, about to collapse entirely.