Chapter 4

Emerson POV:

The birthday dinner was a spectacle of forced gaiety. Crystal chandeliers glittered, mingling with the muted clinking of silverware and the polite murmur of conversation. My "friends" swarmed around me, their faces a mixture of admiration and pity.

"Emerson, you're so brave!" one gushed, raising a flute of champagne. "To go through all that, and still look this radiant. Axel is lucky to have you."

"Yeah," another chimed in, "he was so worried about you, canceling everything and throwing this elegant dinner. He really does care."

A bitter taste filled my mouth. He cared. How easily they believed the lie. How easily they fell for his manufactured concern. I just smiled, a practiced mask of composure, as the words turned to ash in my mouth.

Axel was across the room, his arm casually draped around Alicia, who was basking in the attention. He was introducing her to every influential figure, his voice low and charming. My birthday, my presence, was a mere backdrop for her grand entrance into society.

Then came the moment. The cake. A towering confection, brought in with a flourish. My heart, already a bruised mess, tightened. This was it. The final humiliation.

The cake they brought out was not the one I had chosen. Not the one covered in tiny, edible extreme sports equipment. This one was adorned with delicate sugar flowers, a subtle monogram. Alicia's monogram.

My friends gasped, a collective murmur of confusion rippling through the table. "Emerson, what happened to your cake?"

I just smiled, a brittle, knowing smile. I knew exactly what happened. This was Axel and Alicia's masterpiece. Their final statement.

Axel, ever the showman, strode towards the cake, pulling Alicia with him. He positioned her carefully, right in the center, directly beneath the spotlight.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his voice booming through the ballroom, "tonight, we celebrate not one, but two special occasions! My beautiful wife Emerson's birthday, and the long-awaited return of my dear friend, Alicia Shaffer!"

A ripple of applause. Alicia beamed, her eyes darting to me with a triumphant glint. He had done it. He had officially hijacked my birthday, making me a supporting character in my own story.

He leaned in, a possessive hand on my back. "Happy birthday, my love," he whispered, pressing a perfunctory kiss to my temple. "Now, let's get you a piece of cake."

I flinched away, my sleeve slipping from his grasp. "No, thank you," I said, my voice flat. My eyes fell on the small, elegantly wrapped package I had brought. My gift for him. A small, cruel smile touched my lips.

"Actually, Axel," I said, picking up the box, "I have a gift for you."

He looked surprised, then a faint smile crossed his face. "A gift? For me?" He reached for it, his eyes softening. He thought it was a token of my love, a sign that all was forgiven.

Alicia, ever watchful, tugged at his sleeve. "Axel, darling, the guests are waiting. Don't be rude. Let's cut the cake now."

He hesitated, then placed the gift back in my hand. "Later, Em. Later."

My heart sank. He would never open it in front of everyone. He would never see the final, devastating truth. The truth that lay within the crisp, legal documents. My divorce papers.

Alicia, with a flourish, cut into the cake, her hand guided by Axel's. Everyone cheered. Everyone, it seemed, had conveniently forgotten it was my birthday.

As she portioned out the first slice, she glanced at me, a wicked glint in her eyes. Then, with a practiced stumble, she "accidentally" flung the piece of cake, a generous dollop of cream and frosting, directly onto my face.

A collective gasp. Silence.

My vision was blurred by the sticky sweetness, my hair plastered with cream. Humiliation, hot and searing, washed over me. I felt the eyes of everyone in the room on me, their whispers already starting.

I wiped a glob of cream from my eye, my hand trembling. My first instinct was to retaliate, to lash out, to make her pay for this public mockery. But then, Axel's hand was on my wrist, his grip firm, stopping me.

"Alicia! What was that for?" he chided, but his voice lacked conviction. He even chuckled lightly. "You're such a prankster."

Alicia, hiding behind him, peeked out, a triumphant smirk on her face. "Oh, Axel, I'm so sorry! It was just a joke! Emerson, you know I love you!" Her words dripped with saccharine falsehoods.

My throat tightened. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now. I pulled my wrist from Axel's grasp, my eyes burning.

He reached out again, his thumb brushing away some cream from my cheek. "Emerson, don't be angry. It was just a little accident."

I slapped his hand away. Gently. But firmly. I wouldn't allow his false comfort. I wouldn't allow him to clean up her mess, to continue this charade.

I took a deep breath. This was it. The final act.

"And now, Axel," I said, my voice resonating with an icy calm that surprised even me, "I believe you have another announcement to make."

He looked at me, confused. "Another announcement? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you know," I replied, a chilling smile on my lips. "The one about your new studio director."

His eyes widened, a flicker of panic in their depths. He hadn't expected me to know. He hadn't expected me to call him out.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice faltering slightly, "I'd also like to formally announce that Alicia Shaffer will be taking over as the new director of ThrillSeeker Media."

The highball glass in my hand, forgotten until now, slipped from my fingers. It hit the marble floor, shattering into a thousand glittering pieces. Just like my heart.