Chapter 5

Haley Dickerson POV:

The elevator doors closed, shielding me from the chaotic spectacle I' d just left behind. For a moment, the tension in my shoulders eased, but the image of Karly' s contorted face, Devin' s horrified stare, still burned bright in my mind. Arlena stood beside me, her expression unreadable, but I felt the silent approval emanating from her.

"Are you alright, my dear?" she asked, her voice calm, a stark contrast to the storm raging within me.

"As alright as I can be," I replied, a hollow ache replacing the anger, for now. "It's done."

"No, Haley," Arlena said, her gaze steady. "This is just the beginning."

As the elevator descended, my phone buzzed. A message from the anonymous number. "You left your locket. They're playing the victim. Don't fall for it."

I stared at the screen, a chill running down my spine. Someone was watching. Someone was helping me. But who?

The elevator chimed, opening into the bustling lobby. Before I could process the message, a sudden commotion erupted near reception. A shrill cry. It was Karly.

"She attacked me! She pushed me!" Karly was on the floor, clutching her arm, her carefully styled hair now artfully disheveled. Devin was kneeling beside her, his face a mixture of fear and concern. Surrounding them was a crowd of gawking employees and a few curious journalists who must have caught wind of the earlier commotion.

"Haley!" Devin yelled, his eyes blazing with accusation. "What have you done now?"

I felt a surge of cold fury. This was Karly's specialty. The victim act. The innocent charade.

"I didn't touch her," I stated, my voice calm, even as my blood ran cold.

"She did, Devin! She lunged at me!" Karly wailed, pointing a trembling finger at me. "She's unhinged! She's jealous because we're happy!"

Devin looked up at me, his eyes filled with a familiar distrust. "Haley, you need to leave. You're causing a scene."

"A scene?" I scoffed. "She's orchestrating a scene, Devin. Just like she orchestrated my car accident."

My words hit him like a physical blow. He flinched, his eyes widening. Karly, however, was a master of deflection. She pushed herself up, stumbling dramatically, then reached into her handbag.

"And she tried to steal my ring!" Karly shrieked, pulling out the sparkling diamond ring Devin had given her. She thrust it towards me. "She tried to rip it off my finger!"

The crowd gasped. The journalists began snapping photos. This was their story. The crazy ex-girlfriend.

"That ring belongs to me!" Karly cried, her voice laced with theatrical tears. "It's a symbol of Devin's love, and she hates it!"

Devin looked from the ring to me, then back to Karly. His expression hardened. "Haley, is this true?"

"Of course not!" I retorted, my patience wearing thin. "She's lying! She's always lying!"

Just then, Karly, with a sudden, powerful lunge, grabbed my hand. Her fingers, surprisingly strong, clamped around my wrist. My bag slipped from my grasp, falling to the polished marble floor with a thud. Its contents scattered – my wallet, my keys, a small, hand-knitted baby bootie. The one I had bought, full of hope, before the miscarriage.

My gaze locked on the bootie, a tiny, soft piece of blue fabric, now lying starkly on the cold floor. A fresh wave of grief, sharp and potent, washed over me.

Devin's gaze, too, fell on the bootie. His eyes widened slightly. A flicker of something – recognition? regret? – crossed his face, quickly replaced by a familiar defensiveness.

Karly, seeing the bootie, let out a triumphant, cruel laugh. "Oh, look! The poor, pathetic Haley still clinging to her fantasy baby! How sad!" She then looked at the ring still in her hand. With a quick, practiced movement, she snagged the Dickerson locket from where it had fallen near my bag and tossed it contemptuously to the floor. Then, with a sickening crunch, she stomped on the baby bootie, grinding it under her heel.

My breath caught in my throat. The tiny blue fabric, once a symbol of hope, was now crushed and dirty. My baby. My lost baby. She had desecrated its memory.

"You bitch!" The words tore from my throat, raw and anguished. "You absolute monster!"

"Haley!" Devin roared, his face contorted in anger. He rushed forward, not to help me, but to violently shove me. He pushed me hard. I stumbled backwards, my head hitting the cold marble floor with a sickening crack. Pain exploded behind my eyes.

"Don't you dare touch my fiancée!" Devin spat, turning his back on me. He picked up Karly's ring, then the crushed bootie. His eyes flickered to the bootie, then to Karly. A fleeting moment of hesitation. Then, with a sneer directed at me, he deliberately ground the tiny bootie under his heel again, twisting it into the marble. He held up the locket, the Dickerson family emblem gleaming. He held it up for a moment, then with a deliberate, agonizing slowness, he brought his heel down on it, crushing the delicate silver.

The sound, a sharp, metallic snap, was deafening. It was the sound of my last shred of hope dying. My family's legacy, my lost child, my past, all crushed under his heel.

"You destroyed everything," I whispered, the words barely audible, my voice hoarse with unshed tears. My head throbbed. The world spun.

"You destroyed it, Haley," Devin snarled, his eyes burning with a self-righteous fury. "You can't accept that I've moved on. You can't accept that Karly is my future. You're pathetic."

"Pathetic?" I tried to push myself up, but my body felt heavy, broken. "I loved you! I gave you eight years of my life! And you shatter my heart, my future, my child, then you call me pathetic?"

"You're obsessed, Haley," Karly interjected, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. She leaned against Devin, playing the fragile victim. "You need help."

The crowd murmured, their judgment palpable. I looked at their faces, seeing only disdain. The discarded ex. The bitter woman.

"There are cameras, Devin!" I cried, my voice raw. "Check the security footage! It'll show everything! It'll show she attacked me, she planted that ring, she crushed my baby's bootie!"

Devin hesitated, glancing at the security cameras mounted in the lobby. Karly's eyes darted nervously.

"No need, darling," Karly purred, tightening her grip on Devin's arm. "She's just trying to cause trouble. You know how she gets."

Devin, ever the protector of his carefully constructed narrative, nodded. "Haley, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but it ends now. You need to accept that we're over. Karly is my fiancée. And you need to move on." He looked down at me, still sprawled on the floor. "Go home, Haley. Go home and think about what you've done."

He reached down, not to help me, but to grab my hand. His fingers, rough and cold, closed around my left ring finger. With a sharp, sudden motion, he yanked off the simple silver band he had given me years ago, the one I still wore out of habit. It was a perfect fit, a symbol of our long, comfortable relationship. He held it up, then with a dismissive flick of his wrist, he tossed it into a nearby trash can.

My finger, now bare, felt cold, empty.

Then, with an almost sickening tenderness, he took Karly's hand, placed the sparkling diamond ring on her finger, and kissed her hand. "This is my future," he announced to the gawking crowd, his voice resonating with false confidence. "Karly McLaughlin. My fiancée. The true heiress of my heart."

The crowd erupted in applause. Journalists scrambled to capture the moment. Karly beamed, her eyes darting to mine, a triumphant, venomous glint in them.

Devin turned back to me, his eyes devoid of any warmth, any pity. "Now, Haley. Go. And don't ever come back."

I slowly pushed myself up, my body screaming in protest. My head throbbed. But the pain, physical and emotional, was quickly hardening into an unyielding resolve. I looked at Devin, truly seeing him for what he was: a hollow shell, a betrayer, a fool. He was a stranger.

I walked over to the trash can where he had discarded my simple silver band. With a final, deliberate movement, I reached in, not for my ring, but for the Dickerson locket, shattered and twisted. I held it up, the broken pieces glinting. Then, with all the strength I could muster, I flung it into the trash can, letting it clatter among the refuse.

"Goodbye, Devin," I said, my voice cold and flat, devoid of all emotion. "Enjoy your trash."

I turned my back on him. On Karly. On the applauding crowd. On the shattered remnants of my past. As I walked towards the exit, I heard Karly's triumphant snicker. "Good riddance!"

"My love," Arlena said, her arm gently slipping around my waist as we exited the building. She led me towards another waiting black car, a different one this time. A more luxurious one. "Let's go home. There's so much to plan."

I looked back one last time. Devin was still there, holding Karly, a bewildered expression on his face. Karly was smirking, basking in her victory. They had no idea. No idea what was coming. I felt a chill, but it wasn't fear. It was the icy anticipation of a storm about to break.