Chapter 2
1191 Words
I slipped the keycard into my purse and took a deep breath, swallowing air the way someone gasps before drowning. I refused to cry like an i***t. Not now. Not when everything finally seemed to align after years of nothing but disappointment. I stepped out of the building feeling as if, through some twisted miracle of the universe, the world finally made sense again. As if life was finally giving something back instead of taking everything away.
I grabbed a taxi and leaned my forehead against the icy window while Manhattan glittered under the falling snow, so beautiful it hurt. Christmas lights glowed along the avenues like living veins, pulsing and breathing, and for a brief moment, I felt as if the city were celebrating with me, as if the buildings themselves exhaled hope and the universe owed me something good.
When I arrived at the hotel, my breath caught in my throat.
It was like stepping into another world.
Polished white marble gleamed like freshly broken ice. Towering columns draped with fir branches and golden lights shimmered as if they held trapped stars. A massive crystal chandelier hung above a perfect Christmas tree, impossible to behold without feeling something tighten inside your chest. A pianist played softly near the fireplace, notes floating through the warm air, filling my ribcage with an emotion almost painful in its sweetness.
The receptionist smiled knowingly, as if he already understood who I was and why I was there. As if he could guess the story that was about to unfold.
“Welcome, miss. Enjoy your night,” he said, handing me the key.
I rode the elevator with my heart pounding, trembling, feeling each floor rise like a drumbeat, a promise holding me over the edge of a cliff.
This time it’s real.
He chose me.
He loves me.
The suite door opened with a soft click.
And I thought I had stepped into a dream.
A path of lit candles illuminated the entrance with warm, dancing light, the flames breathing gently. Rose petals formed a deep red trail over the white carpet, like a river of sweetened blood. Metallic heart-shaped balloons floated silently, suspended like wishes waiting in the air. On the table sat two crystal glasses, a bottle of champagne resting in ice, chocolate-covered strawberries, and a gift box tied with a crimson ribbon. The scent of cinnamon, vanilla, and fresh flowers filled the room like an invisible hand touching my skin.
I pressed my hand to my mouth.
Tears burst out before I could stop them.
“Adam…” I whispered, my voice already breaking.
I walked toward the bedroom.
The bed was covered in petals and tiny lights forming a perfect heart.
It was too much. Too beautiful. Everything I had ever secretly dreamed of without daring to say it aloud.
Then I heard the key turning in the front door.
The world stopped.
I froze, my heart slamming wildly, animalistic and brutal. A shaky laugh escaped my lips, foolish and innocent, like a teenager who still believes love is unbreakable. I’ll hide and surprise him, I thought, a childish illusion that now aches all the way into my bones.
I ran into the bathroom, holding my breath.
I looked at myself in the mirror.
Flushed cheeks.
Bright eyes.
The smile of someone about to say I love you without fear for the first time.
Everything was going to be okay.
It had to be.
The door opened.
And a woman’s laugh sliced through the suite like a blade.
A soft laugh.
Warm.
Possessive.
“I can’t wait anymore, my love,” a sweet, breathy voice said, thick with desire.
I felt the blood drain from my body, as if it had been violently ripped from my veins, leaving me hollow and frozen.
“Adam,” she whispered, “lock it. I don’t want interruptions this time.”
I heard kissing.
Clothes tearing.
The desperate crash of two bodies falling onto the bed.
My hands shook so violently I could barely turn the doorknob.
I threw the bathroom door open.
And the world shattered.
Adam was on top of a stunning woman—perfect, radiant, immaculate—kissing her with hunger, with desperation, with a passion he had never shown me. He ripped her dress as she laughed with her eyes closed, lost in what seemed to be the happiest moment of her life.
He didn’t see me.
She did.
She turned her head in annoyance, and then I saw it: the massive, glittering, expensive ring on her left hand. A wife’s ring. A life shared. Real promises—not mine.
“Who are you?” she asked coldly, her voice dripping ice.
I tried to speak, but the words didn’t exist.
All I heard was the heavy, wet crack of my heart breaking.
“I’m… his girlfriend,” I whispered at last.
She let out a cruel laugh.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, adjusting the sheet around her body, mocking—
“I’m his wife.”
I looked at Adam, waiting for him to deny it.
To run to me.
To say something.
To fight for me, even for a second.
But he only stared silently, lips parted, eyes full of panic.
As if I were the intruder.
His silence hit harder than any spoken truth.
A bullet straight through the chest.
I turned toward the door and stumbled forward, tripping over candles and petals and the ruins of a dream that never existed. I reached the hallway half-blind, sobbing without breath, hearing nothing but the tearing sound of my soul splitting apart.
And there, surrounded by perfect luxury, golden lights, and distant Christmas music mocking me with its sweetness, clarity burned through me like fire:
I had to disappear.
I had to run.
I had to kill whatever hope was left inside me.
That was the exact moment I stopped believing in the magic of Christmas.
And that was how my escape began.
But something surged inside me—rage, molten and violent—rising like an eruption from the deepest part of myself. I stopped.
I turned.
And I walked back into the room.
Both of them stared at me now. Adam opened his mouth, maybe to speak, maybe to lie again.
I lifted my hand and struck him across the face with all the strength in my body.
The slap cracked through the suite like a gunshot.
He staggered, eyes wide, skin burning red where my palm hit.
“If there is any justice in this world,” I whispered, trembling, voice raw and shaking,
“may everything you touch turn to ash. May love destroy you the way you destroyed me.”
I looked at her too, ice slicing through my veins.
“If you knew who I am now, you’d be terrified.”
And for the first time, fear flickered in her eyes.
Without another word, I turned and walked out of the suite, leaving behind a trail of water, tears, and blood on the perfect marble floor.
I slammed the door.
“Merry Christmas, Adam. Rot in your own hell.”
- Writer
