Chapter 3: Shattered Trust, Broken Bodies

His friends snickered, elbowing each other. I felt a flush creep up my neck. Twenty-eight wasn’t old, but to him, I might as well have been ancient.

I let out an angry laugh. I’m only twenty-eight, but to him I’m already ‘jerky.’

I let out a dry chuckle, shaking my head. Kids these days had no filter. Still, there was a bitter sort of humor in it—if only he knew.

If only he knew—this ‘old jerky’ is Madeline Carter’s husband.

The irony stung. I almost wanted to tell him, just to see the look on his face. But what would be the point? I was barely her husband anymore.

“What are you staring at? Not convinced? Come on, let’s see for yourself—see the difference between you and everyone else!” The kid’s voice was loud, drawing more eyes.

The young man dragged me, without explanation, into the innermost circle of the crowd. The crowd parted, and red rose petals started to fall—like rain.

It was surreal—petals swirling through the air, catching in people’s hair and drifting onto the pavement. There was a hush, a collective holding of breath, as everyone waited for something to happen.

It was grand and beautiful. I couldn’t help but smile, even as my heart ached.

For a moment, I was transported back in time. The scent of roses, the sparkle of city lights, the electric buzz of possibility. My heart twisted, caught between nostalgia and heartbreak.

Two years ago, Madeline confessed to me right here. The same rain of rose petals.

It had been just as dramatic—her friends orchestrating every detail, the city skyline blazing behind us. I’d never felt more alive, more wanted, than in that moment.

She stood above everyone, promising me:

——

“Ethan, I love you, forever and ever!”

Her voice echoed from the loudspeaker, making sure everyone could hear. And the man standing in the pile of rose petals was shocked, overjoyed, and moved to tears.

He looked up at the top of the revolving restaurant, 122 stories high, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted: “Maddie, I love you too! I promise to be with you!”

Thunderous applause and cheers erupted all around. Amid the noise, a figure in red rapidly descended from the top of the revolving restaurant.

Closer and closer. Madeline’s red dress was as passionate as fire, her black hair flying, a gliding harness around her waist. She seemed to float down, like something out of a dream, crashing lightly into a young man’s embrace.

No man could resist such passion. Back then, I cupped Madeline’s face and kissed her deeply. For a second, I remembered how it felt.

Madeline closed her eyes, lost in the kiss. At some point, the noise faded until all I could hear was the wet sound of kissing. The air crackled with tension.

The memory played out in my mind like a cruel joke. I remembered how she’d done the same for me—how special I’d felt, how certain I was that we were meant to last. Now, it was just a script she could replay with anyone she chose.

“Hey, why are you crying? If you’re so fragile, why are you trying to be the heiress’s backup? Go home and get some rest!”

The kid’s voice cut through my reverie, sharp and mocking. I wiped at my face, surprised to find it wet—not from the rain, but from tears I hadn’t realized were falling. My chest felt hollow.

“You’re way too old for this kind of fantasy!”

My hand trembled violently at my side. My chest felt like it was being crushed. Every breath hurt.

How could Madeline—how could she—take something that was unique to us... and do it all over again for someone else?

She had said I was her most precious treasure in this life. But now—

Her actions made it clear: anyone could be the one, as long as it was someone Madeline fancied.

A metallic taste filled my mouth. I ignored it. What else could I do?

I bit the inside of my cheek, willing myself not to lose control. The world spun, but I refused to let anyone see me break.

I just stared at the two of them kissing, then stiffly lifted my leg and walked over. “Maddie.”

My voice was barely a whisper, but somehow she heard me.

Flustered and guilty, she reached for me. “Ethan, let me explain!”

She stumbled over her words, glancing between me and the other man. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes wide with panic.

“I—I… I thought you couldn’t make it tonight, and I didn’t want to spend the anniversary alone, so I found a stand-in for you.”

She said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. As if hiring a replacement husband was just another inconvenience to be managed.

“If you want to blame someone, blame yourself for being too busy and never having time for me!”

Her voice grew sharper, her chin lifting in defiance. I could see the hurt in her eyes, but also the stubborn pride that had always defined her.

As Madeline spoke, she grew more and more self-righteous. Her gaze no longer avoided mine. She looked almost relieved to have an excuse.

She squared her shoulders, daring me to challenge her. The crowd watched, hungry for drama. Their whispers swirling around us like gnats.

I was silent for several long moments before I forced myself to apologize, biting my tongue until I tasted blood. “I’m sorry.”

The words tasted like ash. I wanted to scream, to demand how she could do this to us. But all I managed was a hollow apology, my pride crumbling at my feet.