Chapter 5 Chapter five

“We are really sorry about it but there's bad weather currently and it’s not safe for flying. We hope you can understand”. The sweet smooth voice of a lady came through. It took me a minute and another hello from her to understand what she said. 

A week? I have to stay another week here? 

“How bad is the Weather?”. At this point I was ready to risk my life to leave this goddamn place. Having to stay another week here, making Brian think I’m still the submissive and desperate little mate he left behind to spend time with his mistress. 

To think he could just do as he pleases and still return home to me while I have to endure all of his wrongdoings. 

“Miss Angela, it’s not safe at all for flying. I understand you want to leave but it’s better safe than sorry. I have upgraded your flight to top tier first class for the inconvenience, once again, I apologize. And thank you for choosing safe flight”. 

There was nothing else to do than accept my fate, arguing with her is of no use if I can’t fly out. 

“Ok, thank you”. I hung up the phone, clenching my fist tightly as I kept murmuring to myself. It’s just a week, I have spent five years here. A week is nothing to it. 

But the thought of staying a week and having to see and bear with all his cheatings. Five years but at least I was the only one. I laughed. How pathetic!

I walked back into our bedroom and took a bath, got dressed and got ready to head to my bakery shop. I have already contacted someone to help me sell it. Just as I reached the door, I was stopped by a delivery man. I frowned, I didn’t even order anything. 

“Hello, are you Miss Laurel Gibbs? A custom-made gown from Mr. Rocha. Congratulations for your wedding, Miss Gibbs,” the delivery person announced brightly.

I froze for a moment, staring at the garment bag he held. It bore the unmistakable logo of MN’s high-end bridal collection.

The gown Brian had picked for me during our trip to MN’s headquarters was merely a limited-edition runway piece. This, however, was a bespoke masterpiece, crafted with precision and care. The difference wasn’t just in the craftsmanship—it was in intention.

I forced a bitter smile. “Thank you, but I’m not Laurel gibbs.” It was no surprise that it has Laurel’s name in it, after I overheard his conversation about marrying her before. I’m sure he would have made a separate and much cheaper one for me. 

If this was a month before I would have been so happy, cheap or not as long as it was from Brian I would have worn it. I was starting to doubt if he has ever gotten me an actual gift or just things Laurel had discarded. 

The delivery man frowned in confusion, staring down at the address in his phone, he looked up at the house address again. 

“But this was the address Mr Rocha gave. Ain’t you his mate? Laurel Gibbs?”. The word mate was like a knife to my heart. I still forced a smile and shook my head. 

“I’m Angela Thompson and I am no one’s mate. You have got the wrong person, perhaps Mr Rocha made a mistake”. I responded. 

The delivery person looked at me, confused. Their expression shifted as realization dawned, then awkwardly nodded. “Sorry for the confusion, Miss Thompson. I’ll… return this to the sender.” He stammered out a series of apologies before scurrying away, clearly embarrassed.

I wasn’t sure what hurt more: the fact that Brian still had the nerve to send something to our home address, or that it wasn’t even meant for me. A custom gown. For her.

I pressed my back against the door, staring at nothing, my hands trembling. I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or laugh.

What an idiot I’d been.

Five years of giving my heart to a man who was saving his grand gestures, his best intentions, for someone else. Laurel Gibbs. Even her name sounded like it belonged in a luxury catalog. I remembered the way he’d spoken about her on the phone that day—low, tender, excited.

He had never sounded like that when he spoke about me.

And the worst part?

If this had happened just a month ago, I would have still defended him. I would have convinced myself the delivery was a mistake, that the dress was secretly meant for me, that maybe Laurel was just a placeholder name—anything to protect the illusion of his love.

I know It shouldn’t no longer be a new thing to me that Brian always got me a fake Or already used item by Laurel but my wedding gown was the least I expected him to do. 

Be it my ex or my current ex to be, they all used to be hers. As I watched the delivery crew leave, I caught a glimpse of movement in the corner of my eye. Brian’s car. 

Stepping out of the car with him was Laurel, the moment she lifted her head, her eyes locked on mine immediately and she smiled. I turned around, closing the door behind me, I rested on it gasping for air. 

Why does it still hurt so much? I know! I know he doesn’t love me and he cheated on me but why does it still hurt? He even brought her home. I gripped my shirt tightly, struggling to breathe. 

The sudden harsh knock on the door jolted me back to reality. 

“Angela?”. Brian called out. I wiped my tears, putting on a fake smile as I unlocked the door. 

“You’re back so soon?”. I forced myself to open the door, there was my chosen mate, arms locked with another woman right in front of me. Laurel leaned closer to him, smiling in satisfaction at me. 

She trailed her hands over his, my eyes fell to the diamond ring… my diamond ring? It didn’t even surprise me anymore. I won’t be surprised if I check my jewelry collection and find a fake there. 

He pulled Laurel to the front and smiled, “I’m sure I already introduced her to you before”. 

“This is Laurel Gibbs, daughter of alpha Jackson Thompson”. Brian said. I frown in confusion. 

“My father?”.