I Choose Me
1249 Words
I stood frozen where I was, painfully aware of the stares and whispers curling around us like smoke. People were watching, and I could feel it in the way the air shifted, in the way conversations hushed and then resumed in sharp murmurs.
Dominic was in front of me.
I didn’t know what he was thinking, he never let me, but I saw the change in his face as his jaw tightened and his eyes darkened. He looked at me like I had confirmed every ugly thing his family had ever said about me.
And maybe, to them, I had.
To anyone watching, it probably looked exactly how they wanted it to look, me, collapsed into another man’s arms, clinging to wealth that wasn’t Dominic’s. A shameless gold digger, a disgrace.
What none of them could see was that I had already been breaking long before this moment.
My knees gave way completely, and if the man behind me hadn’t caught me, I would have fallen flat to the marble floor. I barely registered the feel of his arms around me, firm and steady, holding me upright when my body refused to cooperate.
I was dizzy, nauseous,and my chest hurt like it was being crushed.
The man holding me was Antonio Don Rick, though at that moment, I only knew him as a stranger with a strong grip and a calm voice murmuring for me to breathe. CEO of Don Fashion and Technology, one of the richest men in Azuria, Dominic’s most notorious rival.
I knew that much from whispers alone.
“Take your bloody hands off my wife!”
Dominic’s voice cut through the room like a blade.
I flinched. My wife!
The words sounded wrong, heavy, claiming, as though ownership was all I had ever been to him.
Antonio didn’t loosen his hold, instead, he shifted carefully, as though afraid I might break, and lifted me fully into his arms. The sudden movement made my vision blur again.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, close to my ear.
I wanted to answer, I wanted to tell him no, that I was very far from okay, but my throat burned, and no sound came out.
Dominic stepped forward, blocking our path.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he snapped.
Antonio looked at him, unimpressed. “You should have remembered she was your wife,” he said coldly, “when she walked in looking like she’d seen a ghost.”
Before I could process what was happening, Dominic was shoved aside and the world tilted as Antonio carried me out of the hall.
The last thing I saw before everything faded was Dominic standing there, rigid and furious, watching me leave in another man’s arms.
I passed out before we reached the car.
My body simply gave up.
***
When I woke up, everything smelled antiseptic and quiet.
The hospital ceiling blurred above me, and for a moment, I didn’t know where I was, or why my body felt so hollow.
A nurse noticed I was awake and smiled gently. “You collapsed from exhaustion and stress. You’re stable now, but you need to stay admitted.”
I nodded weakly.
Later, Patrick filled in the gaps. The stranger had brought me in. He stayed until the doctor said I would be fine, then he left.
He didn’t even leave his name.
Two weeks, two long, silent weeks in that hospital room.
No Dominic, no apology, no visit, no call, no Grayson. It was as if I had vanished from their world completely.
At night, when the painkillers wore off and sleep refused to come, I thought about the stranger who had saved me. The man who had held me like I mattered, even if only for a moment.
I didn’t know why that small kindness stayed with me, maybe because it was so rare.
The next morning, Patrick came into my hospital room with an envelope.
“These are the documents you asked the lawyer to prepare, madam.”
I took it from him with trembling fingers. Divorce papers.
My chest ached as I flipped through them, but beneath the pain was something unfamiliar, relief.
For the first time in years, I could see the end of my suffering. “Thank you, Patrick,” I whispered.
When we left the hospital, I walked ahead of him, my back straight, my head high. I refused to look broken anymore, even if I felt shattered inside.
As we got to the company, Gray Fashion and Entertainment loomed ahead of us.
I clutched the envelope tighter as my heart began to beat faster, and when I stepped out of the car, I was interrupted by a familiar voice.
“Eliana, looking for Dominic?”
I turned, and it was Viviana Kin standing there, flawless as ever, surrounded by her modeling team.
I inhaled slowly, forcing calm into my bones.
“Viviana Kin,” I said lightly. “Long time no see.”
Her eyes swept over me with open disdain. “You don’t look well. Are you sure you should be here?” Her team laughed.
I smiled. “Some people mistake cruelty for confidence. Respect doesn’t come naturally to everyone.” I said to her, adjusting my dress, as I watched her smile fade slightly.
“And,” I added coolly, “you know Dominic Grayson is married, yet you still throw yourself at him. That says more about you than it ever could about me.”
Her hand flew up at me, but Patrick caught it mid-air and shoved her back.
Gasps erupted around us and I couldn't care less.
I didn’t look back as I walked away.
Each step toward Dominic’s office felt heavier than the last. Fear crept in quietly. I was afraid I might crumble in front of him as I've always done in the past years.
I was even more afraid that he might refuse to let me go, but I opened the door anyway.
Dominic was mid-conversation with his assistant. I ignored them both and slammed the papers onto his desk. “Sign it.”
He didn’t even look at them. “If you’re done embarrassing yourself, go home.”
“I’ll leave when you sign.”
I leaned forward, and only then did his gaze finally lift, to my dress, my face, the weight loss I couldn’t hide.
“How dare you ask for a divorce,” he said coldly, “after seducing my father into forcing me to marry you?”
Something inside me snapped.
“I don’t care what you think,” I said steadily. “Sign the damn papers.”
But just then, the door burst open, and a panicked secretary rushed in.
“Sir! There’s been an accident at the model shoot.”
Dominic was already moving, and I reached out instinctively, but he shoved past me without a second glance.
Viviana, Always Viviana.
I just stood there, numb. Later, I asked Patrick to drive while I walked.
The rain came suddenly, soaking me through, but I didn’t move.
I let it wash over me, hoping it would take the pain with it. Hoping it would erase the years of betrayal carved into my chest.
“What are you,” a familiar voice said softly, “a damsel in distress?”
I turned, and it was him, the str
anger.
“You…” I started.
“Antonio,” he said gently. “Call me Antonio.”
- Writer
