His Father’s Wife

Second chances

Gina didn’t scream at first. The silence in the room was heavier than any sound could be. Then, the porcelain vase on the nightstand met the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces. Zoey instantly gasped and rolled from Sean. She almost fell off the bed, her hands hiding her bare chest. Sean just sat there frozen.

“Wow,” Gina didn’t know what to say.

“Gina, I…I can explain,” Sean stammered, frantically grabbing a discarded shirt to cover himself. “You’re the one I’m building a life with. This... this is nothing. Zoey is just a distraction. You know… you know I can not hold myself for long. ”

Gina didn’t cry. She laughed, a hollow, jagged sound that scraped her throat.

“I knew it,” she said to herself with a nod. “I knew something was happening between you too. I just..I just couldn’t point my fingers to it.”

Zoey frowned. She stood up and straightened her hair finally getting over her guilt.

“Oh, whatever, Gina. You were always too focused on your selfish needs to ask what he actually needed as a man. You were never there for him. Just a pity case for him to help, right?”

Then a slap fell flat on Sean’s face. Gina's face squeezed in rage. The slap wasn’t for cheating. It was for the humiliation Sean had turned her into.

“You’re both dead to me,” Gina said, her voice terrifyingly calm. “Both death! Dead and deader and deadest!”

“Dead to you?” Sean sneered, his guilt curdling into cruelty. “Look at you. I’m the one who paid for your studio. I’m the one who opened doors at Aurelia. Without my family's name and my wallet, you’re just another girl with a sketchbook and a crumbling apartment. You are nothing without me, Gina! Nothing! “

“I’d rather starve than have you take the credit for my success,” she snapped.

“Walk out that door, and it’s over,” Sean said with a smirk. “You will lose everything and you will never amount to anything. You need me, Gina. You need us!”

Gina turned back on their laughter, and walked out.

Tears filled her eyes as she couldn’t control her emotions anymore. What was this?! Why was all this happening to her now?

She drove to the only place she had left—the old cottage her parents left for her. It wasn’t even a house anymore. That place was broken, thick with dust and a strong smell of cedar.

Gina walked to the attic, her hand clearing the tears that streamed down her cheek. In the corner of the attic sat an iron-bound chest. It was one she had avoided for years. She knelt before it, her fingers tracing the lock.

She took the key from a drawer and opened it.

Inside lay her “Midnight Silk”. A gown that defied the current trends. It was her biggest hardwork. Her rare masterpiece which she had cherished for years. The gown was structured, square-necked, designed with iridescent gemstones that captured the light. Just a movement shone the tiny mirrors she shattered and hooked to the knitted silk. The most haunting detail was the delicate, silver rattle charms hidden in the embroidery of the neckline. Those chimed softly with every movement.

Gina smiled at the dress. The dress held memories. Deep and painful memories. One she chose not to remember.

She slammed the lid shut. Not yet. The world wasn't ready to learn her deepest secret yet.

She couldn’t expose it.

***

The following morning at Aurelia Fashion, everyone ignored her. No one gave her a chance to speak or even gave her second thoughts. When she finally gained an audience with the lead director, the woman didn't offer a seat.

“I want to move forward with the contract,” Gina said, her voice steady as she stood anyway. “But I am cutting Sean Holland out of the equity. I am the sole creator.”

The director sighed, pushing a folder across the desk. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Gina. Sean has already notified the board that you’ve been terminated from his firm. More importantly, Zoey Anna has filed a formal claim of intellectual property theft against you.”

Gina felt the blood drain from her face. “Theft? What?! I don’t understand. I taught her everything she knows!”

“She claims you use all her designs on your portfolio. And the designs has her watermark on the digital files. If you take a closer look, you will see it online, Gina. Unless you have something entirely original; something no one has ever seen; we cannot work with you anymore. I am sorry.”

Gina couldn’t believe this. That good for nothing friend of hers stole all her designs. All of them. At least, except the few in her old portfolios. Her heart melted and she felt even more betrayed now. Her mind wandered to the chest in the attic.

Maybe it was time to reveal her best work yet.

But the secret… the medical report…

They would ask her why she made it, and she would tell them.

“I have something unique I worked on,” Gina said. “But I can’t reveal it yet.”

“There is nothing like that, Gina. You need to prove it,” the director said, pointing toward the exit. “Until then, don't call us again.”

Gina walked out, the door slammed to her face. Her lips were sealed and she couldn’t defend herself no matter how hard she tried.

Back in the quiet of her ruined home, Gina sat on the floor, the "Midnight Silk" draped across her lap. Her eyes drifted to the yellowed paper at the bottom of the chest—the medical report from three years ago.

She remembered the joy of the positive test, the cold abandonment by her first love, and the painful news of her miscarriage that followed. That dress was the birth of it all. She’d made it as a reminder of her unborn child. As a reminder of her darkened past she wished she could move on from.

She wiped a stray tear from the silk of the sleeve. Sean and Zoey had taken her reputation, her money, and her confidence. But they didn't know about the attic. They didn't know about the trump card she had to defeat them.

“Someday,” she promised. “Someday, I will reveal you to the world. And they will not hear me coming.”

***

After months of knocking on fashion doors, and trying to get a new mentor, she was stopped by a tall man. A man in his late forties, looking hot for a man of his age. The man looked well kept and seemed to follow his beauty routine pretty well.

“Hey, you forgot this,” the man said, showing her a page of her portfolio. Gina gasped and hurriedly grabbed it.

“Thank you,” she slipped it back into the folder. She never even realized when the wind had blown it out.

“Did you design that?” He asked.

She gazed into his blue eyes wondering who he was. What was the interrogation anyway?

“Yes, it belongs to me,” she said.

“Good, that’s perfect,” his face brightened up as she turned to a restaurant beside it. “Come in, I will love to talk to you about it.”

Gina still was skeptical of this suddenly favour before this man. But she was broke. She was helpless and could even follow an amateur at that point.

Soon they were seated in the restaurant, and the man ordered a glass of water for himself. Gina refused to order anything.

“I love that design,” the man began. “In fact, I believe that design will help my fashion line a lot. What do you call it?”

“It’s just a simple dress I designed during my boring days. It’s called “Bore ‘em Stitch,” she explained, pulling out the design and showing him further. “With the loose view of the stitches, you can tell it’s supposed to be a boring sew.”

“Perfect,” he smiled. “Absolutely perfect. Vanderbilt Vogue will love this.”

Gina raised her brows.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “Vanderbilt Vogue? I…I do not understand.”

“Sorry, for the intrusion. I didn’t introduce myself,” he cleared his throat. “My name is James Holand, CEO of Vanderbilt Vogue and I am in need of an experienced and intelligent designer who can revive my failing sales.”

Gina’s eyes widened in surprise. Her eyes in disbelief.

“Ex…excuse me?” She was confused.

“Yes, I get that look everyday,” he wasn’t surprised. “Presently, I am in need of a designer assistant and wife to skyrocket my business. If you are able to bring my business to its optimum height, I will change your life for good.”

Gina’s lips couldn’t speak.

“A…a transactional relationship?” She wanted to be sure.

“A transactional relationship and a contracted marriage of two years. Tell me what you think,” he said with a smirk.

Gina didn’t know what to think. In fact, this man had literally taken the words off her lips.

“I…I can’t. I am sorry,” she took her stand and grabbed her bag. “I can’t do this.”