"Go ahead, I'll wait for you at home," I said, keeping my tone steady.
She exhaled, visibly relieved and called her secretary to walk me out.
Just before I left, she added, "Oh, by the way, the Spencer Family is hosting a dinner tomorrow night to celebrate Joel's return.”
Since he was the CEO now, they had to keep up appearances. They were telling everyone he had been studying abroad, not a word about prison.
I nodded, giving her the answer she wanted. "Got it. I won’t cause any trouble at the dinner."
That seemed to settle her. With a quick nod, she sent me on my way.
When I got home, I stared at the wedding photos on the wall. After a moment, I pulled them down, one by one.
With scissors in hand, I sliced through every image until there was nothing left but shredded memories. The pieces went straight into the trash.
That night, Jasmine didn’t come back. But Joel did—on social media.
He posted a photo, the first in months. A candlelit dinner for two.
The photo was carefully cropped: no faces, just two wine glasses and a slender wrist. Her wrist. No wedding ring, but I didn’t need one to know it was Jasmine.
I liked the post, why not give him what he wanted? Then I turned off my phone and started packing my bags.
The next morning, Jasmine’s secretary dropped off me formal clothes for the dinner. Curious, I opened the box. It was a last-season design, hardly something impressive.
By the evening, I arrived at the party just in time to catch Loren finishing her speech. She was all smiles as she announced that Joel was taking over every joint project between the Greer Family and the Spencer group.
The crowd erupted in applause, buzzing with admiration. Everyone was talking about Joel’s “success,” marveling at his incredible luck. Two rich, beautiful women standing by him—one cleaning up his mess, the other handing him the keys to the kingdom.
Then I walked in and the energy in the room shifted. Conversations faded, replaced by curious stares and sly smirks. It was the kind of silence that said they were expecting a show.
Jasmine was too busy working the room to notice me.
Joel, on the other hand, noticed immediately. With that polished smile of his, he stepped in like a gracious host, guiding me upstairs to the terrace.
As soon as we were alone, his act disappeared. The charm vanished and the real Joel, the one I knew all too well, finally surfaced.
Joel's smirk was pure venom. "Nash, after all these years, you're still pathetic. You really thought Jasmine married you for love?
“Please. If you hadn’t sued me, she wouldn’t have even looked at you. I've been 'abroad' for the past three years, living comfortably—all thanks to your wife. Face it, Nash. You’re a joke."
The words hit harder than they should have, but I didn’t let them sink in. Instead, I let my fist do the talking.
The punch landed square on his face. He staggered back, still smirking, but before he could catch himself, he lost his balance and tumbled down the stairs.
A loud gasp rippled through the hall.
Jasmine rushed over, dropping to her knees beside him.
Panic filled her eyes as she turned to me, her voice sharp with anger. "Nash, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you out of your mind? Joel has always treated you well! Why would you push him? Didn’t you say you’d let the past go? Why are you making a scene now?"
I met her glare with a steady, unreadable expression. "Making a scene? Jasmine, don't you think you owe me an explanation for what happened back then?"
Her face tightened and for a split second, I saw hesitation—guilt, maybe. "What’s there to explain? Joel has apologized for the past three years. What else do you want?"
I scoffed. "One thing at a time. Whatever happened before, that doesn’t change what he said tonight. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean I owe him an apology."
Before Jasmine could respond, Joel reached for her hand, his voice trembling just enough to make it convincing.
"Don't... don't blame Nash," he murmured, his breath shaky.
"This is all my fault. I wronged him back then. Tonight was supposed to be my way of making it right." He sighed, shaking his head. "If he still hates me this much… maybe we shouldn’t see each other again. I don’t want to put you in the middle of this, Jasmine."
My hands curled into fists, nails biting into my palms until I felt the sting of broken skin.
As I watched them walk away, her arm wrapped around him, I finally saw it for what it was.
It was over.
