Left at the altar, claimed by his uncle

“Turn. Hang your legs on my shoulder.” The words came out as a groan, accompanied by a gasp and then the sounds of skin slapping skin.

Lyra stared at her phone screen in disgust, chest tightening with each thrust, tears slipping from her eyes as the sounds grew louder and more insistent. 

She'd watched the video at least a hundred times. As though if she watched it long enough, the man on the screen would somehow change from Alex, her fiancé. Or maybe it'd be less heart wrenching if the woman he was thrusting into aggressively wasn't her best friend, Nadine.

The screeching sound of a microphone tore Lyra’s attention from her device. She patted away her tears—careful not to ruin her makeup. She put away her airpods, groaning at the wet patch on her silver-colored dress.

On stage, Alex stood—all eyes on him. 

“Most people think you have it easy once you're born into a rich home—that everything is laid for you on a platter,” Alex began. “But it's quite the opposite. You constantly have to work hard… Prove yourself… Show that you're worthy enough.” He paused for impact and looked around before raising his glass higher. “So here's to being worthy.” 

Despite everyone knowing everything was in fact handed to him on a platter, murmurs of admiration moved through the crowd. But Lyra’s fists clung to the hem of her dress instead, chest tightening as the video kept replaying in her head. 

‘Leave once you see the signs, else you'll see wonders,’ they say, but—

Four years. 

Four years she'd been with Alex. She was supposed to just… throw it all away? 

Forget he once meant the world to her? 

Forget he'd been there for her in her darkest moment? When she was just twenty, broken, grieving the death of her only parent.

What kind of person would that make her? 

Alex turned to Nadine—who was seated at the front table, clad in a tight scarlet dress—with a smile that made Lyra's breath hitch. “To our beautiful and hard-working Nadine,” he said. “Thank you for working tirelessly. Without you, there’s no Wilson energy.”

Nadine’s plump red lips curled into a flattered grin. 

Lyra's eyes stung with tears while a round of applause sifted through the air. ‘Working tirelessly?’ Lyra scoffed. She was the one who'd gotten nose bleeds from trying to finish up the project last week.

Reaching for a passing tray, she grabbed a flute and downed all its contents at a go. The burn as the liquid slid down her throat was a welcome distraction.

“Nad, please, can you join me here?” Alex asked—voice soft, eyes dilated.

Nadine’s cheeks flushed red as she stood. She adjusted her dress briefly before walking. Just as she was about to climb the stage, she almost slipped, but Alex's reflexes were quick. He grabbed Nadine's waist, and they both paused in place, eyes locking like a cheesy romance scene. 

Lyra watched, nails digging into her palm at the sight. She felt the hall lights spotlight every crack in her makeup but she tried to maintain her composure. 

So she wasn't crazy after all. The sextape was just confirmation.

Confirmation to the tiny voice in her head that she'd tried to shut down. Confirmation to her friend, Daphne’s suspicion. 

She knew. Always did. She'd noticed the late nights. The way he ran over whenever Nadine was having cramps. The way he'd always remembered the things she liked. Hell, the way he'd looked at her. ‘You're overthinking,’ Alex had said when she confronted him then. ‘We're just friends. Nadine would be so disappointed if she knew this is what you think of us.’

Lyra blinked a couple of times. Why was the hall so blurry?

Alex’s voice boomed from the stage.

“I was planning to leave it for later, then I thought, 'Why not just get it over with?'" He paused for a few seconds before announcing, “Our new director of strategic innovation is Nadine Hale.”

The crowd held their breath for a brief moment before the small murmuring and confused faces turned to applause. 

Wait…

‘It's a prank, it's a prank,’ Lyra chanted, but it didn't make her breathe any easier. It didn't stop her cheeks from getting wet.

Glasses were raised instead. Nadine wrapped her hands around Alex's arm. Congratulations floated through the air like confetti. Lyra’s lungs collapsed.

It wasn't a prank.

She was the brain behind their groundbreaking designs… their best-selling models... 

Alex promised. Said she'd be the new director. 

Being director meant her own team, her own research division. Freedom and resources to continue her mother's research. So, ‘why stay? Even after he kept putting Nadine first? Even after seeing the sextape?’

Well, that's the reason. She'd lost him, she didn't want to lose everything too. At least it'd be less pathetic if she gained this position from the four years of being with him.

Right now, he wanted to take even that away. She'd be damned if she accepted it!

So without thinking, Lyra stood. “No!! There's been some mistake! I'm the new director. Not Nadine!!!” 

Silence.

Heavy silence—glasses hanging mid-sips, mouth dropping, eyes turning to her. 

Then shocked gasps, whispers, and murmurs sifted through the crowd. 

Alex frowned. Nadine smirked. 

But Lyra glared at Alex, tears pouring down her face as she ran towards the stage. “You promised! You said—” She stepped on her dress and twisted her ankle just at the top of the stage. She groaned and lost her balance, arms swinging to regain her balance and stop herself from falling. “Alex,” she called, her hands frantically reaching out for him.

At that point, Nadine suddenly crouched down and gasped. “Lex! I hit my foot.”

Like reflex, Alex ran over to Nadine. “Are you okay?” He asked, examining her perfect foot.

Lyra’s scream pierced through the hall as she struggled to grab onto something to break her fall. All to no avail as she landed at the foot of the stairs. 

Agonizing pain radiated through her leg, head, and back, liquid trickling down the sides of her face. Her dress was torn, exposing her underwear to all who had eyes. 

Lyra’s vision blurred. And through that haze, she saw the chaos that erupted. She saw Nadine standing tall…smiling. Smiling?!

That triggered something in Lyra. So she used the last ounce of strength in her to shout. “Slut!! Nadine is sleeping with my fiancé!” Her consciousness was slipping, but she could hear the gasps and murmurs in the background. “T-that’s why he made her… direc—”

Then darkness.