LENA’S POV
Before Francine walked off angrily, my eyes had wandered to her feet. She was wearing a pair of designer gemstone shoes made in Paris - the exact same pair I wanted desperately for my birthday. I remembered how I had begged Marcelo to get them for me, but he had told me they were out of stock. Instead, he had bought me a pair of shoes I didn't even like, and I had only worn them to please him.
Now I realized why Marcelo had told me the shoes were out of stock. It was because he had gotten them for Francine. I felt like such a fool for not seeing the signs earlier. Marcelo had always favored Francine, but I had been too blinded by his fake love to notice.
I thought back to all the times Francine had done something, and Marcelo had never seemed to have a problem with it. He had always been so accommodating, so supportive. I had thought he was just being nice because Francine was the illegitimate daughter, but now I realized that was just a lie. He had always favored Francine, and I had been too stupid to see it.
I shook my head, feeling sorry for myself. I was done with all the bullshit. I needed some time to clear my head, to figure out what I wanted to do next.
I dragged my suitcase out of the house, taking one last look at the place that had once been my home. My mom was waiting for me outside by the car.
She rushed to my side, pulling me into a tight embrace, and I finally allowed the tears to drop down my cheeks.
"I'm done, Mama," I whispered, feeling my heart breaking. Mom nodded sadly and drove me to the hotel.
As we got checked in, a sudden idea struck me. Perhaps a change of scenery was exactly what I needed. Without wasting time, I pulled out my phone and began searching for flights to Las Vegas.
In thirty minutes, I booked a ticket for the following morning, and a charming Airbnb rental that had caught my eye online.
It was stunning, just the perfect size and modern decor I fancied. However it was expensive, $1000 per night, but I didn't care. I needed a place to escape, and somehow it called out to me and felt like home.
The next morning, Mom drove me to the airport.
As we hugged goodbye, I reminded her not to let anyone know where I was. I needed time for myself and didn’t want anybody’s interference.
I boarded the plane to Las Vegas, feeling excited. I had always loved Las Vegas, the bright lights, the energy, the freedom.
When I finally got settled that same day in my new apartment, my phone rang. It was Marcelo and I wondered what the hell he wanted now. I reluctantly swiped the call left.
"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual.
"Hey, babe," Marcelo replied, his voice smooth as silk. "I'm so sorry, but I have some bad news. I just got a call from the photographer, and I won't be able to make it to our wedding photo shoot tomorrow."
I raised an eyebrow, feeling irked. "So, we should reschedule?"
He hesitated for a moment before responding. "No need, babe. What's the point of wedding photos, anyway? We can just use some old photos we took in the past. And we'll take a ton of photos on our wedding day, so it's not a big deal."
I felt a spark of anger ignite within me. Was he kidding me? Our wedding photos were important to me, and he was just brushing them off like they didn't matter.
"And then about our engagement party?" Marcelo continued. "We don't need to have another one, right? The last one didn't exactly go well."
I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my cool. "Of course. What about my bachelorette party? Should we just cancel it too?"
"No, you should still have it. How about the night before the wedding? But Francine will have to be there. We can't allow her to feel left out."
I couldn't believe the audacity of this man. He was forcing me to include Francine in my bachelorette party, just like he had forced her into our engagement party.
"Of course, Francine will be there," I said, my voice tight. "Just as you wish."
As soon as I hung up the phone, I felt like hitting it against the wall. I was done with Marcelo and his controlling behavior. I was done with the wedding, the engagement party, and the whole charade.
I quickly grabbed my phone and shot a text to my friends in our group chat. "Hey girls, change of plans. The bachelorette party is now a cute sleepover... because I'm calling off the wedding!"
