I went to my room, pulled out the wedding gown I never wore. The ring he gave me and the copy of their marriage certificate. I dropped them in a box, along with a note about the baby he’d never cared to meet.
I scheduled the delivery for our wedding anniversary, no, their wedding anniversary — the same day I’d disappear forever.
When I finally drifted off, I barely heard Scott come in. He went straight for the vase my father made before he died — the last piece I had left.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ll have this. Jasmine wants it.”
“No,” I whispered. “Please, Scott, not that. That’s all I have left of my father. You know that! Why are you giving it to Jasmine?”
He didn’t even look at me. “Because she said she wants it and she'll give it to the doctor who had operated on her as a thank you because she was great now. It’s just a vase, Nadine. You have plenty.”
When I reached for it, he shoved me aside. I hit the floor, biting back a cry.
He never even looked back.
--
The day of the banquet was almost beautiful, if you ignored the fact that I was nothing more than their well-dressed maid.