THE WIFE HE REGRETTED LOSING

THE FINAL INSULT

Vanessa’s voice cut through the ballroom and the whole place went still. The string quartet kept playing, but the music sounded miles away. For a second, it felt as if Lola was the only one in the room, spotlit and exposed.

Dozens of eyes lasered in on her. Some were curious, but plenty were enjoying the show. A few looked downright mean. Standing in the center of the glitter and expensive suits, she felt all wrong—a stain on the marble floor.

Vanessa’s words hung in the air.

“You were only ever a mistake.”

A few people exchanged looks. Someone let out a quiet laugh—the sound barely there, but it sliced deeper than any shout.

Lola’s whole chest felt hot. Not from anger—not yet. This was colder, heavier. Three years, gone, and everyone who ever called her a friend just watched like she was some tragic act in a play.

She finally looked up. Across the room, Daniel Carter watched her. His face? Blank. Dark eyes, zero emotion. The same man who once held her hand at their wedding. Now he looked at her like she was just causing inconvenience.

Nobody moved. The quiet stretched out. Vanessa finally laughed, soft and mocking. “Well. This is awkward.”

Some guests joined in—nervous, brittle laughs. Vanessa faced her again. “You really shouldn’t have come.”

Lola’s reply barely made a sound: “I was invited.”

The answer set off another ripple of uneasy amusement.

Vanessa arched her eyebrow. “Oh? Did you invite her?” She shot the question toward Daniel, but he didn’t reply. He just kept staring at Lola, then stepped forward. The crowd made space, and his steps echoed on the marble, slow and deliberate.

Lola’s heart sped up even as she forced herself not to move. When Daniel stopped in front of her, the silence felt like a physical pressure.

He reached out, grabbing her arm—tight, possessive, cold. “Enough,” he said, barely above a whisper, but you could hear the command in it. Guests straightened, sensing the shift.

He leaned closer, his voice even lower. “Leave.”

She stood her ground. His hand tightened. “I’m not going to repeat myself.”

People murmured, waiting for the blowup. Lola looked down at his hand, then back at his face.

“You’re embarrassed,” she said, quietly. His eyes narrowed. “That you’re here,” she went on. “Not that you treated me like this.”

Vanessa scoffed behind them. “Oh please. Don’t pretend you’re the victim.”

Some guests nodded, but Lola didn’t even glance at Vanessa. She just kept her eyes on Daniel. For a heartbeat, she saw a flicker in his eyes—Irritation? Impatience? That was it. Three years together, and he couldn’t even manage guilt.

Her throat was tight, but she pushed out the question she’d never dared ask. Her voice dropped. “Daniel…”

He didn’t speak, still holding her arm, but she said it anyway. She forced herself to look him in the eyes.

“Did you ever love me?”

The question shocked the room into stillness. All eyes on them, waiting.

Daniel looked at her for a long, empty moment. Then he spoke. The answer was cold as ice, as final as a judge’s verdict.

“Never.”

That single word crashed through her. She’d expected pain, she’d even braced herself for cruelty, but not the total emptiness in his voice.

He let go of her arm so fast it made her flinch. “You were convenient,” he added. “Nothing more.”

Gasps zipped around the room, but Daniel didn’t care. He glanced at the entrance. “Take her out.”

The guards by the door hesitated, then made their way toward Lola. Vanessa stood with her arms crossed, satisfied. “Well. That answers that.”

Lola stayed standing where everything happened, her arm stinging. The humiliation was thick, all those eyes, all those whispers and smirks pressing in on her from every angle.

But, strangely, something inside her went silent. Maybe this was the last straw. The guards stopped beside her, and one said, almost kindly, “Miss… please come with us.”

She didn’t move at first. Just stared at Daniel, that one word echoing in her mind: Never. And just like that, any illusion about her marriage was gone. Three years of hope, nothing but dust.

The guard touched her elbow. “Please.”

Lola blinked, finally. She looked around at the crowd—her audience. At Vanessa’s smirk. At Daniel, the man she’d married. Then she turned and walked toward the door, silent.

The music picked up again. The laughter returned. Life kept moving as if nothing had happened.

Lola barely made it to the front entrance before her phone buzzed in her bag. She glanced at the screen—an unknown number, and a simple message:

“If you want revenge, meet me tomorrow.”