Chapter 2

The night passed in a blur of sleepless agony.

Alexia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the image of Gilbert and Hayden burned into her mind.

The next morning at the office, Sarah nudged her playfully. "Didn't sleep well? Too excited about the big story?"

Alexia forced a weak smile. "Something like that."

She followed her colleagues to the city square. Her feet felt like lead.

Gilbert had organized a public proposal. A grand spectacle for the entire city to witness.

She saw him there, in the center of a heart made of roses. He was on one knee, holding a bouquet of red roses and a glittering diamond ring.

Hayden Torres stood before him, with joyful tears on her face.

"Hayden," Gilbert's voice, amplified by speakers, echoed through the square. "You are the only love of my whole life. And I've been searching for you all these years. So will you marry me?."

Hayden sobbed and nodded, throwing herself into his arms.

The crowd erupted in cheers. Cameras flashed, capturing the perfect moment.

Alexia turned around and walked away, the sound of the applause fading behind her.

Her phone buzzed. It was a message from Gilbert.

Something important came up at work. I'll be late tonight. Don't wait up.

Something important.

She looked back at the square, at the man she called her husband kissing his fiancée for the cameras.

The lie was so blatant, so cruel, it was almost laughable.

She followed the press to the engagement party. It was at The Seraphina, the city's most luxurious hotel.

The Seraphina. He had once told her he named it for her, that "Smith" was too common a name for something so beautiful. Another lie. It was probably named for Hayden.

She put on a mask and blended in with the throng of reporters.

Gilbert and Hayden walked in, hand in hand, basking in the adoration of the crowd.

Alexia's eyes were drawn to Hayden's neck. She was wearing a string of wooden prayer beads. They looked familiar, but she couldn't place them.

Alexia' s fingers trembled as she typed out a message to Gilbert.

I'm not feeling well. My head hurts.

She stared at the screen, a desperate, pathetic hope flickering in her chest. Maybe he would show a sliver of concern. Maybe he would remember her.

The message remained unread.

The air in the ballroom felt thick, suffocating. She needed to get out.

As she slipped into the hallway, she heard voices coming from a private room. Gilbert's voice.

"She's just a substitute. A stand-in until Hayden came back to me."

His tone was cold, dismissive.

"She's convenient. She looks like Hayden, and she's hopelessly in love with me. It made the waiting bearable."

Another man's voice, sycophantic. "So, the three-year marriage was a complete sham?"

"Of course," Gilbert scoffed. "Do you think I'd ever seriously marry a nobody architect? Hayden is my future. I can't let her know about Alexia. It would break her heart."

Her phone buzzed. A reply from Gilbert.

Take some medicine and rest. Don't be difficult.

The words were a slap in the face. Cold. Impatient. Annoyed.

Just then, Sarah grabbed her arm. "There you are! They're about to cut the cake!"

She was dragged back into the ballroom, a puppet on a string.

Gilbert and Hayden were on the stage, a magnificent cake before them.

He took her hand, the diamond ring sparkling under the lights. "To my one and only love," he said, his eyes fixed on Hayden.

Hayden leaned in and kissed him, a possessive, triumphant kiss.

The crowd cheered.

A reporter shouted a question. "Mr. Davis, there are rumors you were involved with someone else these past three years. Is there any truth to that?"

Gilbert smiled, a charming, dismissive smile. "There were people in my past, but none of them ever mattered. My heart has always belonged to Hayden."

The ring on Alexia's finger suddenly felt incredibly tight, a cold band of metal digging into her skin.

He had just publicly denied her entire existence.

That night, she sat in the dark, tears streaming down her face. She cried until her throat was raw and her eyes were swollen shut.

Then, she picked up her phone and dialed a number she hadn't called in years.

A gruff voice answered on the first ring. "Casey."

"It's me," Alexia whispered, her voice hoarse. "Alexia Smith."

A pause. "I've been waiting for your call."

"I need a favor," she said, her voice gaining strength. "I want you to erase me. Every trace of Alexia Smith. My identity, my records, everything."

"Consider it done," Casey replied. "But there's something else you need to know. Something about your mother."