My husband, Ryder Knox, was glowing on the red carpet tonight.
Camera flashes went off like fireworks. Paparazzi screamed his name.
Next to him, practically glued to his side, was Isla , the hockey team's cheerleader. Who's my step-sister.
Her left hand slid around My Ryder's waist. Her fingers trailed lightly down his back, like she owned him.
And from the way he smiled, she might as well have.
I stood there. Watching.
The wife. The ghost. The joke.
Isla leaned in close and whispered something into his ear, and he throws his head back, laughing.
He looks at her she was the funniest person in the world.
Tch..
I haven't seen him this happy in years.
Not since high school.
Not since the day he looked at me like I was everything.
Not since that day everything changed, I wish I could have defended myself, so he can look at me that same way.
Sigh…
The crowd around us buzzed with laughter, fake smiles, and champagne chatter.
But I knew who they were really laughing at.
Me.
The famous hockey player's wife.
The one whose husband was practically groping her step-sister in public.
She turned her head just enough to catch my eyes ,and smiled.
Not a friendly smile.
A smug, evil, I-won smile.
Argh God, I hated her.
My fists clenched at my sides. Nails digging into my palms.
The whispers behind me were getting louder.
"Do you think they're going to kiss?" Someone whispers behind me.
"Most definitely. I bet they'll be doing way more than that after this red carpet."
They giggled.
I didn't move. I didn't speak.
But inside, something snapped.
"How are you enjoying the show, Mrs. Knox?" Zara said, sidling up beside me with a drink in her hand and a smirk on her lips.
Zara, the team's public relations manager. Always dressed to kill, always watching, always talking. She was the mouth of the hockey world. And right now, that mouth was mocking me.
I glanced at her, keeping my smile tight and bright.
"Oh, it's fantastic," I said, voice steady but thin. "I'm happy to see my husband's hard work paying off. And being rewarded with such an… honor."
The word tasted bitter, but I forced it out anyways.
She blinked, and her lips twitched like she was holding back a laugh.
Behind us, the crowd erupted into applause.
A standing ovation.
For Ryder.
And Isla.
I watched as they stood center stage, hands entwined like they belonged to each other.
He leaned in, whispering something into her ear. She laughed, head tilted back, glowing under the lights.
I guess no one cared that Ryder was still married.
Not the league.
Not the fans.
Not even the people who were supposed to have my back.
Zara gave me a long look, her tone softening like she'd just remembered I was human.
"Well… um." She shifted awkwardly, eyes darting back to the stage. "I should… head out. Catch you later, yeah?"
She didn't wait for a response.
Just turned on her heels and vanished into the crowd like it burned to be near me.
I stood alone, clapping along with everyone else.
Pretending.
They were just about to step down from the stage when the crowd got louder.
A few fans screamed Ryder's name, waving phones and jerseys high.
Someone yelled too close to the mic,
"Ice King!" ,his stage name.
Then another voice cut through the noise,
"Why are you still with that old hag?"
A few people laughed.
I was the old Hag the motherf**ker was referring to.
Ryder didn't flinch. He didn't even glance in my direction.
He just smirked and leaned into the mic.
"We'll see about that," he said smoothly.
Isla giggled beside him, covering her mouth like she was shy.
The fans went wild, swarming them with autograph books and flashing phones.
That was it.
I couldn't take it anymore.
I got up, walked out of the hall, and headed straight for my car.
The moment the door shut behind me, I let out the breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
I drove fast.
No music.
Just the sound of my own pulse pounding in my ears.
By the time I got home, my chest felt heavy. Like something had caved in from the inside.
He didn't look at me. Not once.
Not even when people laughed at me.
Not even when they called me a hag.
I stood in the kitchen for a while. Opened the fridge. Closed it.
Nothing looked good.
I grabbed an apple, took one bite, and left it on the counter.
The shower was too hot, but I didn't care.
I scrubbed until my skin turned red, like I could wash off the humiliation.
Afterward, I changed into a red lingerie.
I wanted to look hot and sexy,just enough to make him notice me.
I stood by the window, waiting.
Watching.
Every car that passed, I hoped it was his.
I sat down.
Got up.
Sat down again.
Two hours passed.
Still nothing.
I let out a shaky breath and stared at my reflection in the glass.
"What are you doing, Maya?" I whispered. "Why are you still here?"
I laughed under my breath. It sounded broken.
"You should've have saved yourself when you had the chance. You should've have defended yourself that day.
I wiped under my eyes, but the tears kept coming.
"Now look at you," I said softly. "The woman he used to love. The one he used to look at like you were his world."
Now… he looked at me like I was nothing.
I don't even remember when I curled up in the corner of the bed.
But that's where I cried myself to sleep.