She thought about why she had fallen for Hayden and remembered the first time she saw him. He was walking down a forest path in a simple white shirt, the sunlight dappling his face. His skin looked fair and translucent under the light, and his fine hair fluttered in the wind, making him look like a prince straight out of a comic book.
Unlike other boys, sweaty or covered in acne, he was so clean and pure. Especially when he sat in front of the piano, his inherent nobility was captivating. From that moment, she had decided he was the one she wanted.
Over the years, though he had lost his youthful naivety, his elegant and gentle demeanor remained. But now, the man before her was completely different. The man who should have been by her side was now mingling with a group of women, his white shirt stained with numerous lipstick marks. His tie was askew, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, lazily drinking with the women.
“Mr. Alvarez, you lost again! You have to drink,” they teased.
“Fine, I’ll drink,” Hayden, who had come to drown his sorrows, continued without hesitation.
Susan knew he was in pain, but wasn’t she suffering too? She called out but was ignored, so she walked over to him and gently tugged at the hem of his shirt, “Come home with me.”
“Go back if you want, leave me alone!”
Julian snapped, his face showing a trace of anger as he impatiently pushed Susan’s hand away.
“Hayden, today is supposed to be a happy day for us, what are you doing out here?”
Susan said, trying to keep her cool.
“I’ve already got the marriage certificate, and the wedding is done. Everyone knows you’re Mrs. Alvarez, what more do you want?”
Hayden looked at Susan with drunken, blurry eyes. Susan held his hand, “But what I wanted was you, all along!”
“You should know, you were never the one I wanted,” Hayden, seemingly drunk, said with a sober and resolute clarity.
Their conversation stunned the onlookers, who had previously seen only their sweet moments together on TV. Little did they know, this was the reality behind their relationship; indeed, celebrities are actors who had deceived the whole world.
“Get out, all of you!”
Susan, seeing the pity in the eyes of the crowd, was infuriated. Who were they to pity her? She was far happier than they could imagine. Reluctantly, everyone left the room, and Susan sat down next to Hayden.
“Fine, you wanted someone to drink with, I’ll drink with you.”
Hayden looked at the crazed eyes of the woman next to him, “Why aren’t you her?”
“Her, her, her, it’s always her, how am I not as good as she is?”
Susan cried out in heart-wrenching pain.
“Susan, do you know what I hate most in my life?”
Hayden asked, changing the subject.
“…”
She looked up at him.
“The thing I hate and regret the most in my life was getting involved with you three years ago,” he said before getting up and leaving, taking his coat with him.
Susan was left alone on the sofa, her heart pierced by the most devastating words she had ever heard. Another person, Ivy, found herself in an even more tragic situation, having been tormented by those beggars all night long.
That night, Ivy’s voice was hoarse from screaming and her tears had dried up by morning when the beggars finally left, satisfied. Her body bore no patch of unmarred skin; she lay on the cold, dirty ground like a rag doll. Many times, she thought of dying, but the thought of her body, naked and blurred in the media, not affecting Aurora in the slightest, kept her from giving in. It was unjust for her to suffer while Aurora continued living like a cherished princess.
Clutching her fists, Ivy slowly picked herself up from the ground and struggled into the torn dress that lay beside her. Genevieve had waited up all night in the apartment, worried sick because Ivy hadn’t returned. When the doorbell rang, it was Ivy who stood there, disheveled and in a dress torn to shreds.
“Where have you been all night? I was so worried!”
Genevieve exclaimed in distress.
“Mom…”
Ivy burst into Genevieve’s arms, a luxury she had never been deprived of growing up.
“What happened, Ivy?”
Genevieve asked, alarmed at the sight of her torn dress and the bruises on her neck and arms.
“Mom, I…”
Ivy managed only a few words before bursting into tears.
“Let’s talk inside,” Genevieve said, sensing the gravity of the situation and quickly helping Ivy into the house.
“Mom, I need to shower first,” Ivy croaked, her voice hoarse.
“Can you do something for me?”
“Of course, tell me,” Genevieve replied, fearing the worst.
“Get me emergency contraception,” Ivy said, biting her lip.
“Ivy, what happened last night?”
“Don’t ask, Mom,” Ivy pleaded, rushing into the bathroom to turn on the cold shower. Tears mixed with the running water, “Aurora, one day I will make you pay a thousandfold for my suffering today. I will leave you with nothing, wishing for death!”
Ivy thought repeatedly about the stench of the beggars as she washed, eventually collapsing and vomiting on the floor. After two hours, Genevieve, hearing no response, pushed open the door, settling for drying Ivy with a towel, not daring to ask what had transpired.
“I was wrong to curse you, Mom, it’s all come back to haunt me so quickly,” Ivy sobbed, realizing the swift arrival of her karmic retribution.
“What happened, Ivy?”
Genevieve, understanding the situation, saw the marks of abuse on her body and began to cry.
“Who did this to you?”
The mother and daughter embraced tightly.
“It was Aurora and Julian, they did this to me!”
Ivy hissed through clenched teeth, her eyes red with rage.