Chapter 4: She is married to me.
986 Words
CHAPTER 4
RACHEL'S POV
I moved swiftly through the event hall, dressed in my kitchen staff uniform, the white apron tied neatly around my waist. The clatter of silverware and the quiet hum of music surrounded me as I carried a tray filled with wine glasses, weaving through the elegantly dressed guests. No one paid attention to the servers. We were just shadows in the background, doing our job, invisible. And I was grateful for that.
It had been days since my wedding to Noah. Days of silence, of avoiding my phone, of ignoring Elvis's calls and messages. I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him. The guilt was too heavy. Every time my phone lit up with his name, my heart ached, and I would turn it face down.
Tonight, I was hoping to just blend in, to serve and leave. I had already made a few rounds and was almost done. Just as I stepped toward the kitchen entrance, someone suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me aside.
I gasped, nearly dropping the tray. "What the hell—"
But then I saw him.
Elvis. He came to the event. I forgot he knew where I worked so it would have been easy for him to track my location.
His face was flushed, his eyes blazing with emotion. I froze, my breath caught in my chest. Shame settled over me like a thick cloud. Now I had no choice but to face him.
"Rachel," he said, his voice raw, barely above a whisper. "Where the hell have you been?"
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I couldn't look him in the eye.
"I went to your house," he continued, his voice rising slightly. "They said you moved out! I’ve called you, messaged you, begged you to just say something! Do you have any idea what that felt like? To be left in the dark like that? What's happening? Why did you ignore my calls? I reached out to your sister but she said she had no idea where y
I lowered my eyes, my lips trembling. I wanted to say something, anything, but I couldn’t, knowing how much hurt I would cause him if I did say something. The words were trapped inside me.
He stepped closer, his voice now tight with pain. "You owe me an explanation, Rachel. I deserve that much. We are in love, weren't we? Or was that just in my head? I am your boyfriend! Don't just go silent on me like that. I am responsible for you. Why aren't you saying anything? Did I do something wrong maybe? Did I offend you? Talk to me please."
Before I could respond, the door swung open, and Noah stepped into the room. He walked toward us, calm and confident as always, his eyes locked on me. Without a word, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me slightly to his side.
"Who is this?" he asked coldly, his voice filled with quiet authority.
Elvis took a step back, stunned. "And who the hell are you?"
Noah raised an eyebrow and answered calmly, "I’m Rachel’s husband. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t drag her around like that again."
Ohz his sharp eyes must have caught that.
Elvis blinked, trying to process the words. "Your... husband?"
His eyes darted to me, looking for a sign that this was some sort of mistake. I stood frozen, tears welling up in my eyes. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t defend myself. I couldn’t explain.
"Rachel?" he said again, softer this time, almost begging. "You’re joking, right? Tell me this isn’t true."
I slowly nodded. My voice cracked. "I'm married to him."
He stumbled back a step, his face contorting in disbelief. "You have to be joking. No... Rachel, no. This can’t be happening."
The silence between us was deafening. The disbelief in his eyes broke me in ways I didn’t know possible. I could see the betrayal, the confusion, the heartbreak.
He shook his head slowly. "I waited for you. I believed in us. I loved you. How could you have gotten married to your boss? It makes no sense! You must be lying to me!"
"If you don't leave and you create a scene instead, I will have you thrown out."
And with that, he turned around and walked away. I didn’t stop him. I didn’t have the right to.
Noah turned to me, still composed. "You need to be careful who you associate with, Rachel. You’re my wife now. Everything you do reflects on me. Don’t let your past affect my image."
Then he walked away, leaving me standing there in silence.
I bent slowly to the floor, tears streaming down my face. My shoulders shook as I cried quietly, not caring who saw or heard me. That moment tore something inside me.
When I finally got back to my room after the event, I collapsed on the bed, exhausted in every possible way. The memory of Elvis’s face wouldn’t leave me. I saw his smile in my mind, heard his laughter echo in my ears.
I remembered our long walks, our late-night conversations, the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the world that mattered. He loved me. He was patient, kind, and always made me feel safe. And I let him go. I let him walk out of my life.
I buried my face in my pillow and cried again.
Later that night, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I wiped my eyes and picked it up.
A message from Elvis.
"We need to talk. Meet me tomorrow. Please."
My heart skipped a beat.
I stared at the message, unsure of what to feel. Relief? Fear? Hope?
I didn’t know.
All I knew was that tomorrow, I would have to face him again. And this time, there would be no hiding.
- Writer
