In the bedroom, I started packing the clothes I'd had before the marriage.
But no matter how I searched, I couldn't find it—the suit my mother had sewn for me by hand before she passed.
I was about to call and ask when I saw it.
Noel's latest post.
He was wearing it. My mother's suit. At the celebration.
Rage erupted through me like a wave of fire.
I grabbed a cab and stormed into the banquet hall.
There he was—arm around Greta, the two of them laughing, basking in the crowd's admiration.
When Greta spotted me, guilt flickered across her face.
And beneath it, a gleam of triumph she couldn't quite hide.
She released Noel and walked toward me.
"I knew you couldn't stay away. But today is an important occasion for the child, so please don't—"
I didn't give her the chance to finish. I shoved past her and drove my fist straight into Noel's face.
"Remember your place as the side piece," I said coldly. "Don't be like your mother—that old homewrecker—always taking what belongs to others."
I pulled out a pair of scissors and slashed through his shirt.
The fabric tore with a satisfying rip, accompanied by his piercing shriek. I ripped the ruined garment off him completely.