My Husband Chose His Ex I Became His Regret novel Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Lila

Celestine says, “Wow, there’s Lila Stark, the woman who will conquer tonight.”

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“Do you

think I can actually do this?” My voice feels small in the space of this huge suite, and when I look at them, they are all standing around me, and they have spent hours making me as beautiful as I can possibly

“Can?” Yuki laughs. “Chérie, you have already done it. The dress, makeup, hair, everything we put on you just makes you look more beautiful. The biggest transformation?” She points to the place on my chest where my heart is. “You’ve already transformed inside; we just made you more beautiful on the outside.”

Celestine is nodding in agreement. “Walk into that gala tonight and let everyone see who Lila Stark really is, a woman who was once married to Mark Knight, a woman who was cast aside by her husband, and a woman who has risen from the ashes and is stronger than ever.”

Claire hands me a small champagne-colored clutch, Valentino, of course. “Inside the purse is everything you will need: phone, lipstick to touch up with, business cards of your new title with Storm Industries,” and Claire grins.

My phone vibrates again. I look down to see that it is the last person I wish to get a call or text from.

But I don’t have any more messages from Aidan, instead, I have a message from someone who I had previously blocked who somehow has now been unblocked, my father.

I heard you will be at the Bellmont Gala tonight.We need to have a conversation. The issue that is going on with Storm is becoming unmanageable.

I stared at the text message, it said “We need to talk” four days prior, I hung up on him, I blocked his phone number, and I created boundaries for the first time in my life.

He’s trying to get through those boundaries. Every. Single. Time.

My hand starts shaking, the panic returns and I think “what if he creates a scene? What if he embarrasses me? What if him creating a scene will lead to…”

“Non.” Celestine puts her hand on top of mine, stopping the shaking. “No matter who sent that text message, they don’t deserve your energy tonight. Tonight is for you.”

I look up to her. This woman who I met just hours earlier and is a complete stranger to me has now become my ally.

“It is from my father,” I said. “He only wants to talk to me when it’s beneficial to him.”

“Do you want to talk with him?”

“No.”

“Then don’t.” She takes my phone, blocked the number again, and gives it back to me. “There, problem

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Chapter 23

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solved. Tonight, you have no father. You have no ex-husband. You have no one in your life who makes you feel small. All you have tonight is yourself. And you…” she points at the mirror, “are magnificent.”

I look back at my reflection and see that I am strong. I am beautiful. I am ready.

Ready to face my father. No. Ready to face the world who tells us we don’t matter.

Ready to prove them all wrong.

“Okay,” I said. I stand back up and test the heels one more time. Nice and stable. I am stable, therefore; “Okay.”I can handle it.”

“You will utterly crush it,” Yuki reminds me. “Crush it so badly that all others will be in awe of your sheer force!”

Celestine makes finishing touches to my costume. Pin here, smooth that fabric out over there. She took a step back and surveyed her work with her hands on her hips like a sculptor admiring his creation as a finished piece.

“Parfait! Perfect, absolutely perfect!” She got her phone out and took a few pictures. “Here are some for you to remember today. Someday when you find yourself feeling small again, take one look at this picture and remind yourself that you are a work of art, you are powerful and you are all those things that someone told you couldn’t be.”

She air-dropped her pictures onto my phone. I immediately saved that picture to my phone, proof that I was here, that I looked this way and that I had become this person!

I felt

my phone buzz…6:55 PM. A text from Aidan: I’m on my way down, see you in five.

Oh no! My heart rate was racing as I realized what was about to happen. I had just about five minutes until I left this suite, was about to get into a car with Aidan Storm, was going to arrive at the Bellmont Hotel where many people are gathered who have power and prestige and I had heard that Mark Knight had been talking with investors tonight about my project; I had heard that the woman who was going to be his fiancé, the ex- wife with the crazy behaviour, was probably on his arm playing the part of the perfect girlfriend.

I had heard that they were all probably talking about me behind their backs. In five minutes, I was going to walk through the doors of that ballroom and show everyone in that room who the crazy ex-wife became.

“Breathe,” Celestine encouraged, “And don’t forget your posture; shoulders back, chin up!”You are not simply walking into a gala. You’re going to make an entrance-and there’s a huge difference between the two.”

“What is the difference?”

She grins at me: “Anyone can walk into any venue. Only someone who is memorable can make an entrance. Tonight, chérie, you will be the most memorable thing at that gala.”

Yuki gives me my clutch, “Go; kill it; make us proud.”

I walk toward the exit of the suite I have been living in for the last week and hover my hand over the doorknob.

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This is my last chance to run; last chance to change my mind and not go out there: my last chance to remain safe and small and forgettable.

But OMG, I’m tired of being forgettable.

I look at myself in the nice shiny brass elevator doors, and I see a woman who could be anything she wanted. Not the waitress who worked double shifts to get herself through school, and not the wife who made dinner for her husband, only to get ridiculed for putting salt in the food when he didn’t like it. I wasn’t the daughter who never measured up against my step-siblings who had always been all that they’d ever needed to be.

When I walk off the elevator though, every one of the people who were there has stopped what they were doing to stare.

The bellman near the entrance to the lobby stood at attention, with his mouth wide open as well and the front desk manager, who is an older woman that I’ve seen this week, has stopped with her professional demeanor to give me a warm smile and tell me that I am “absolutely breathtaking”.

Thanks, I told her, and my voice was held together completely.

As the lobby’s double doors opened, I could see a black Bentley sitting at the curb waiting for me. Aidan’s car.

And there was Aidan standing beside the car looking at his phone…

He was just as I expected: a tuxedo. His hair was perfect, his bow tie was flat, he looked as though he stepped off of the pages of a magazine or that he was born in a tuxedo and this was just some random Tuesday for him.

Aidan looked up and saw me walk towards him and froze… he forgot all about his phone and his eyes were as big as saucers and his jaw was locked. He stares for three seconds, I know because I was counting.

Then, he recovers. He puts his phone away into his pocket and moves towards me.

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