Chapter 2 The Secret Post
714 Words
Stella dragged her exhausted body back home.
Before she even had the chance to clean up her disheveled state, her phone chimed with a message from a number she didn't recognize, but the name in the preview froze her blood: Chloe Miller.
Driven by morbid curiosity, Stella tapped "Add to Contacts" without thinking. Almost instantly, a tiny blue circle appeared around her profile icon, a new status update.
Tapping it, she saw Chloe's freshly posted caption: Would you guys believe that someone can still love you exactly the same way after all these years.
Below the text were three attached photos.
The first was a selfie of Chloe holding a massive bouquet of red roses. The second was Chloe tightly embracing a man. The third showed the man gripping the back of Chloe's head, kissing her fiercely and dominantly.
Even without seeing his face, Stella instantly recognized the man
It was Jace.
Because the tailored suit the man was wearing was the exact same one Jace had worn when he proposed to her just hours ago.
Stella let out a mocking laugh. She slid the sickeningly ridiculous diamond ring off her finger, stripped off her elegant dress, slashed it to ribbons with a pair of scissors, and tossed it into the trash can. Then, she dug out all the handwritten love letters Jace had given her over the years and fed them straight into the paper shredder.
Still feeling suffocated by rage, she began tearing through the villa.
She dismantled the massive wall of stuffed animals that supposedly symbolized his love, ripped up their goofy, romantic photo booth strips, and threw out their matching couple's mugs and toothbrushes.
Finally, she dialed her underground fixer. "I need a full identity change. A new name and a brand-new ID. Expedite it."
The fixer answered promptly, "Can do. But an emergency rush is gonna cost you a fortune."
Stella didn't hesitate. "Whatever it costs. I don't care."
The words barely left her mouth when the front door swung open.
She swiftly ended the call.
Jace strolled in, reeking of expensive alcohol.
"Whatever it costs? What is my baby buying that's making her so generous today?"
'I'm buying my rebirth.'
Stella silently answered him in her head.
But outwardly, she just gave a dismissive brush-off. "Nothing important. Just something I liked."
Jace didn't press the issue. He frowned slightly, as if suddenly noticing something. "By the way, Stella, why did you take down the stuffed animal wall by the stairs?"
Stella had already smoothed out her emotions, her tone flat. "It was gathering dust, so I threw it out."
Jace nodded in agreement. "True. Out with the old, in with the new. We'll go back to the arcade another day and win you all the ones you like."
'Out with the old, in with the new. How wonderfully ironic.'
Stella didn't reply.
Completely oblivious to her emotional shift, Jace took off his jacket and climbed into bed.
He wrapped his left arm around her shoulders while using his right hand to aggressively type on his phone.
It seemed like he had sent a barrage of messages to someone but wasn't getting a single reply.
Stella subconsciously turned her head, and her eyes landed directly on the contact name at the top of his screen—Chloe-bear.
No wonder Jace had walked in with a dark, irritable aura. It turned out his reunion with his true love wasn't as harmonious as he had hoped.
Perhaps sensing her gaze, Jace hastily locked his phone, turned his head, and kissed her forehead. "The wedding is coming up fast. I'll take you to pick out the wedding gown tomorrow, alright?"
Stella wasn't in the mood, but just as she was about to reject him, Jace beat her to the punch.
"Since you love vintage styles, we'll go for a bespoke royal gown. Two weeks from now, you'll be walking down the aisle in a custom masterpiece. I promise you a lifetime of deep love, holding your hand through thick and thin. From this day forward, through every meal and every season, I am yours."
Stella listened in utter silence.
What a breathtakingly beautiful fantasy.
Too bad they had absolutely no future. Therefore, those promises of daily life were nothing but empty words.
- Writer
