Dress & Him to Her, I Move On

Chapter 4

When I came out of the shower, Edmund and Celeste were both gone. I didn't care. I grabbed my bag and headed straight to my class.

He didn't reach out to me for the rest of the day. Or the night.

Early the next morning, I folded the last cotton T-shirt into my carry-on suitcase.

Though it was small, it held everything I owned. Just my toiletries, two sets of old dancewear, and a handful of personal things.

All the Hermès bags, the Chanel suits, the couture gowns Edmund had bought me? I didn't touch a single one.

They hung right where they'd always been, sparkling and untouched.

I zipped the case shut. The click sounded final.

The guest bedroom door opened. Edmund walked out in his work shirt, buttoning his cuffs as he headed for the kitchen.

He spotted the suitcase by the sofa and stopped dead. His brow furrowed.

"Are we done with the theatrics now?"

He strolled over, voice dripping with that same condescending arrogance, like he was watching a toddler hold her breath to get her way.

"Running away from home? That's cheap, even for you."

In his world, shredding the medical papers, kicking him out of the bedroom—all of it was just a woman's manipulative little bid for attention.

I said nothing. I pulled something out of my purse and closed my fist around it.

Edmund's phone buzzed on the kitchen island. The screen lit up with a text from Celeste.

Celeste: The gala PR numbers are incredible. Thank you again for the dress, baby x.

He saw it too, and locked the screen. He saw this as the perfect chance to lecture me.

"I'm letting the paperwork thing slide. I know you're stressed. But Celeste has done the company a great favor. You owe Celeste an apology. A real one. Then we can put all this behind us."

He glanced at his watch and kept going, cool and matter-of-fact.

"The wedding invitations went out to every investor and board member last week. This little tantrum of yours isn't going to change anything.

"Next month's Fashion Week, I'll have my assistant book us two tickets. We'll get away, and you'll feel better."

Apologize, and I'd get a trip abroad as a reward. That was how it worked in his head.

I stared at him, and all I felt was pity.

I walked to the marble dining table and opened my hand.

The six-carat pink diamond engagement ring hit the table and settled right at the edge.

Edmund's eyes locked onto it. All the color drained from his face.

I pulled a single sheet of paper out of my bag and slid it across the table toward him.

"Save the tickets."

My voice was steady, completely unshaken.

"I canceled the wedding venue this morning. The cancellation fee is right there. I paid it in full—out of my own account."

He stared at the stamped, official cancellation notice, his perfect composure shattered.

It probably never crossed his mind that I'd pay hundreds of thousands of dollars out of my own pocket just to burn the whole wedding to the ground.

"Tessa!" His voice was tight, strained through gritted teeth.

"Keep the ring." I grabbed the handle of my suitcase. "Get it resized. It'll fit Celeste perfectly. Waste not, right?"

I didn't look at him again. I turned and wheeled the suitcase toward the front door.

"Walk out that door, and I'll freeze every single one of your supplementary cards," he called after me, cold and threatening. "How long do you think you'll last on your own?"

My hand was already on the doorknob. I didn't look back.

"We're done, Edmund."

The door clicked shut behind me.

10 years of my life. All those needles. All that sacrifice.

Him, and everything he'd stood for—I locked it all away on the other side of that door.

The morning air was sharp on my face. I took a deep breath.

And for the first time in years, I felt free.