Vanessa's POV
I was treated for three days, and the examination results showed no danger. I was just in shock. On the day of my return, Scott did not reveal himself to pick me up at all.
A nurse informed me that Scott was sending me a pick-me-up so I could comfortably return home.
"Your brother is very considerate, you're lucky, miss."
I smiled bitterly, if only I could tell the truth.
On the way home, I went back to check the account "Miracle1250" again, and there were some recent posts featuring her along with Scott. She was even confident tagging Scott's account without thinking I would see it.
No wonder Scott didn't accompany me and pick me up. He was having fun and enjoying their company. The smile on Scott's face in the photo was enough to explain how happy he was.
Their clothes look wrinkled, with Masai hair, happy but tired faces. I don't want to second-guess apparent reality
In the five years together, I never got such a publication. We got married because Scott was very dependent on me at that time. We met where I worked, in a mental hospital, he came in a fragile state and often raged.
I took care of him until he recovered there. In the end, we liked each other. We were married, intimately attended by family and close friends, but he didn't want our marriage to be known by the public because he wasn't ready for his past to be exposed in a mental hospital. I was only introduced as his sister every time I met someone new.
I stayed because his attitude towards me was fine, but now he has made me realize that I am just a substitute for the love he has been waiting for.
When I got to the apartment, the same scene greeted me. It was quiet. Silent. As if it were uninhabited. Scott was lovesick. He didn't remember coming home.
I immediately packed everything I had, including all the things Scott hated. A couple of trinkets. I thought it would be funny if we wore clothes with the same motif, and drank in glasses with special calls. I was the only one excited. All of this was useless. I wouldn't leave a bit.
In the middle of the packing process, a package came. It turned out to be from Scott. He brought me a bouquet and also a box of cookies. There was a greeting card, which contained a welcoming expression.
Scott always gave me those things if I was mad at him. I used to melt and seduce Scott to take pictures of the gift to share it on my social media accounts, but he strictly forbade it. Again, the reason was the same.
Now that I realized it, there was another woman's heart that he loved. I was just an outsider who was a comfort to him.
I took the gifts to the room, took pictures, and sent them to Scott. Soon, Scott said he would come home to take me to a party with his close friends. I didn't answer and continued my activities.
All done, I took all the stuff to the back and started a fire. I burned some of it slowly while holding back my rebellious tears from spilling.
Last, I wanted to burn the only thing I was guarded about. A painting of our wedding photos that ended up in the warehouse because Scott forbade it from being displayed. My heart was painful and heavy.
"What are you doing? I've been looking for you."
I turned, finding Scott standing behind me. He walked up to me and saw I was burning all those things.
"Finally, you realize that those things are useless, I will help. No one knows our marriage, so why do you fill the warehouse with all this? I am happy, you are more mature."
Scott said that with his cold face, the scent of women's perfume wafting, and his shirt, which was still the same as the photo on his social media.
Scott took over the only thing I hadn't burned. Our wedding photos. He carelessly tossed them into those flames.
I can no longer hide my tears. I cried seeing my marriage end here. The photo taken when our love blossomed no longer meant anything to Scott.
All the memories, good times, and trust I planted in this relationship have vanished.
Scott turned around, smiling at me. "Come on, we need to prepare. The party is about to start, and Clarissa is waiting for us. She was at our wedding first, so I invited you too."
***
In a luxury hotel ballroom, there was a slight incident. I was barely allowed in because the attendant said I wasn't on the list. But Scott called Clarissa, and I was allowed in.
I stood two steps behind Scott, who was greeting his old friends. They all looked at me with a difficult glare. Even Clarissa, who was the owner of the party, looked grim when I shook her hand.
After that, Scott and I were directed by the attendant to sit at the VVIP table that had been provided, where the names Scott Ryhs and Valerie Thomas were.
I squinted at the nameplate on the table.
"Uh… we’ve got the wrong spot. I’m Vanessa Hilton, not Valerie Thomas," I said, throwing a look at Scott, who was already dragging out a chair like he owned the place.
Scott flicked a glance at the sign, and for a split second, his face went tight. Panic. Then back to chill mode.
"Relax, Vanessa. Just sit down. Probably a typo or something. Maybe Clarissa forgot to tell them I was tagging along."
I raised a brow. Still standing.
"Okay, but who the hell is Valerie Thomas? Do you know her?" I'm getting suspicious, and there's something Scott is hiding from me.
Scott leaned in, dropping his voice like I was about to start a riot.
"You wanna play detective here? Chill out, don’t turn this into a drama. It's a party, not an interrogation room.”
