Waking Up from the Happy Ending

"Let go!

Josie sprained her ankle, and Damon is losing his mind!" I was pregnant and burning up with a 103degree fever, but my husband, Preston, forcefully pried my fingers off his collar and shoved me to the hardwood floor.

The front door slammed. The deadbolt clicked. Fortynine times. That was how many times he had walked out on me in the dead of night for his best friend's girl.

When I finally forced my eyes open in a sterile hospital room, my stomach was flat. The baby was gone. A hollow ache clawed at my chest, suffocating me.

But before I could even gasp for air, glowing text exploded across my line of sight. [It's finally over!

Three thousand chapters, and the main couple finally cleared all the hurdles to be together!] [The female lead's bestie and the male lead's doctor friend have so much chemistry!

I ship the side couple so hard!] [Happy ending! The villain is about to jump off a building!] I stared at the blinding fluorescent lights above.

A dry, raspy laugh scraped its way out of my throat. So that was it. I was just the disposable first wife in some trashy romance novel.

My unborn baby was nothing but a bloody stepping stone for their epic love story and perfect happy ending. The end?

In my revenge playbook, hell on earth for these scumbags was just getting started. I ripped the IV needle out of the back of my hand. A drop of dark blood rolled down my skin.

I grabbed my phone and dialed the number of Holden—my childhood friend, the socalled villain currently standing on the edge of a rooftop. "You're pathetic." I pressed the phone to my ear. "If you don't know how to play the villain, step aside and watch me do it." Chapter 1 "…It's just a sprained ankle.

Aren't you overreacting a little, Damon? Genevieve is burning up. A hundred and three degrees." "Alright, alright, I hear you… Tsk, I swear I owe you from a past life.

This is the first time I've ever seen you care this much about a woman… Fine, I'm heading over now." I forced my heavy arm up.

Right as the bedroom door creaked open, my fingers clamped onto the immaculately ironed hem of his dress shirt. "Don't go." The voice scratching its way out of my throat didn't even sound like mine. "Preston, I feel like I'm dying…" "Genevieve, stop throwing a tantrum.

Josie's ankle is swelling up badly, and Damon is losing his mind over there. This is the first time he's ever fallen for someone.

As his best bro, I have to help him lock this down." My husband pried my fingers back, one by one. Smooth. Zero hesitation. The deadbolt clicked into place.

A sharp, mechanical snap. I dragged myself toward the nightstand to reach for the water glass, but the room violently pitched sideways. My body slammed hard onto the hardwood floor.

I managed to dial 911 just as the darkness swallowed me whole. "I'm so sorry, ma'am.

We couldn't save the baby." I lay frozen on the sterile hospital bed, the smell of bleach burning my nostrils.

The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed, a relentless, suffocating hum that drilled straight into my skull, drowning out the steady beep of the heart monitor. My stomach. Hollow.

Empty. I stared at the peeling white paint on the ceiling, a bitter taste flooding my mouth.

If Preston knew he had just killed his own unborn child, what kind of sick, twisted expression would curdle that handsome face of his? I waited until noon to dial his number.

The line connected. Preston's voice drifted through the speaker, brimming with pure relief and brotherly pride. "You better treat her right, Damon.

I've ditched my new wife at home so many times for you two lovebirds!" He finished his little joke before realizing the call was active.

His tone immediately flattened into casual indifference. "Genevieve.

How are you holding up?" I pressed my palm flat against my empty abdomen, my fingernails digging into the thin hospital gown. "If you had to choose between me and playing wingman for Damon's love life, would you ever choose me?" Preston let out an impatient, icy scoff on the other end of the line. "Genevieve, when did you turn into such an unreasonable, jealous housewife from the slums?" "Answer the question, Preston." Silence.

The background noise shifted, echoing slightly. He had put me on speaker.

A cloying, painfully delicate voice chimed in. "Preston, Damon really did overreact by calling you over in the middle of the night. It's totally my fault that Genevieve is upset.

I'm fine here, really. You should go back and coax her." I recognized that artificially sweet, grating voice anywhere.

It belonged to Josie—the pitiful, innocent little charity case from the wrong side of the tracks who reeked of cheap perfume.

The exact same girl Damon had been obsessively chasing for three years. "Did a little fever suddenly turn our untouchable Queen Genevieve into a hysterical mess?

You're making me look like a damn joke in front of Damon…" His voice dropped an octave, slipping back into that smooth, practiced gentleness he always used on me. "Be a good girl.

I have to pull an overtime shift at the cardiology department tonight. I'll cook you dinner when I get home tomorrow evening, alright?" I ended the call. Perfect.

That made things so much easier. Preston never even knew I was pregnant to begin with. I had to stay for two days of observation anyway.

Now I wouldn't even have to waste my breath inventing a lie about why the house was empty. [Awww, Damon spoils our Josie so much!

Losing his mind over a tiny scrape!] [Lmao, our poor second male lead Preston getting dragged out of bed at 2 AM every single day just to play doctor for our baby girl.] [What are you talking about?

Damon and Preston are bros for life. Of course he'd take a bullet for his bro's love life.] […But Preston's wife was running a crazy high fever.

Isn't it kinda messed up to ditch your own wife to take care of someone else?] Chapter 2 I lay on the hospital bed for half an hour.

It took that long to make sense of the glowing text relentlessly flashing before my eyes. The world I lived in was nothing but a massive, trashy romance novel.

My husband, Preston, was the billionaire alpha male lead's rideordie best bro. The kind who would literally bleed for his boy.

Preston spent more time trailing after Damon than he ever did with me. And all of it was because of Damon's obsessive, toxic love for the female lead.

Forced captivity was a daily occurrence. Kidnappings and car crashes happened as often as people drank water.

The amount of times the female lead got herself hurt was impossible to count.

Every single time Damon made a call, Preston would drop me in a heartbeat. "Genevieve, you know how it is. This is the first time Damon has ever opened his heart.

I have to back him up." So all of this was just plot armor. Just character settings. A heavy, crushing weight slammed into my chest, instantly stealing the oxygen from my lungs.

I gripped the edge of the mattress, gasping for air. Because I lost the baby early and my body was resilient, I was discharged after just two days of observation.

I went straight back to our empty house.

Preston never came home. [Josie and the male lead finally survived the bodydouble drama, the car crash, the amnesia, and the kidnapping to be together!

Crying over this beautiful love!] [Hahaha Damon made his best bro Preston the best man, and the maid of honor is Josie's bestie, Harper.

They look so good together…] [Did anyone else notice Preston taking shots for Harper at the engagement party today? The chemistry is off the charts!] [Are you guys blind?

Remember Valentine's Day when our baby girl and her bestie got kidnapped? Damon protected Josie, and Preston protected Harper.

They spent the whole night together in the middle of nowhere…] [Say no more, I'm donating my house to these two.

Wishing them happiness!] [Wait, does anyone remember Preston actually has a wife? You can't just ship everyone just to pair them off…] Two months ago. Valentine's Day.

That was the day I found out I was pregnant. I had set up a candlelit dinner at home, waiting to surprise Preston.

Instead, past midnight, all I got was a phone call. "Sorry, Genevieve. Josie got kidnapped. I have to go with Damon to save her.

Eat by yourself tonight." At that point, Preston had already been running around for half a month cleaning up Damon and Josie's messes.

That night, sick with worry, I sat alone on the living room sofa until dawn broke.

Turns out, while I was sitting there terrified for his safety, Preston had his arms wrapped around another woman.

Judging by the floating text, the timeline of this pathetic world was about to hit its finale. I crushed the medical report in my fist.

My nails dug deep into my palms until a sharp sting registered and dark blood seeped out.

This trivial physical pain was absolutely nothing compared to the boiling magma of revenge erupting in my chest. A sick sense of absurdity gripped my heart like an icy claw.

Pairing up the side characters? A happily ever after? My baby was dead. Bleeding out on the floor after my husband abandoned me for his bro's girlfriend's scraped knee.

And in the eyes of this sick world, that was just a side note to cheer on his "perfect match"? Fuck their happy ending.

Pure, unfiltered hatred mixed with towering rage, instantly incinerating whatever pathetic grief I had left. The end? Who the hell gave them permission? [So satisfying, girls!

Holden, the villain who tried to steal our baby girl from the male lead, got driven to bankruptcy!

He lost the girl and his money, totally snapped, and now he's standing on his roof about to jump!] That comment made the vein in my temple throb wildly. [Serves him right!

Who told him to keep kidnapping our girl to use as a body double for his untouchable first love!] Chapter 3 I whipped out my phone and punched in a number I hadn't dialed in years.

When the line connected, the voice on the other end was fragile, dripping with endless misery. "Who is this?

If you're calling to gloat…" "It's your daddy." A dead silence on the line, followed by a breathless gasp of pure disbelief. "Genevieve?!" The floating text had literally just said he was one step away from jumping off the roof.

I gritted my teeth. "Holden, back the hell away from the ledge. Roofs aren't for bungee jumping." Holden must have instinctively stumbled backward.

He sounded like he'd seen a ghost. "Genevieve, aren't you dead?!" "It's only been three years and you're already burying me?

I'll be dancing on your grave long after you're gone." Three years ago, my dad's corporate empire was maliciously targeted by a ruthless competitor here in the States.

Weighing our options, he moved the entire family to Europe to rebuild.

It wasn't until last year, when I fell for Preston while he was attending a medical symposium overseas, that I made the choice to fly back alone and marry him.

Holden finally seemed to process the situation. He hesitated. "Old Mrs.

Phyllis from the neighboring estate said your dad went bankrupt, couldn't handle it, and took the whole family out with him… I always thought you were dead." …Right.

It all came rushing back. Phyllis, that senile, gossiping old bat who never knew when to shut her mouth.

After a long, heavy silence, I let out a sharp sigh of exasperation. "Holden, with your singledigit IQ, you're trying to play the villain?" "If you don't know how to play the bad guy, step aside and let me take the wheel." I arranged to meet Holden at his penthouse. "You look like hell," he noted.

Holden looked much more mature than the boy I remembered. After years apart, he seemed visibly on edge.

I kicked his front door wide open, marching in to slam my bloodstained miscarriage report onto his genuine leather coffee table.

I looked down at him with the absolute authority of a queen. "Your color wouldn't be great either if you just had a miscarriage." Holden's expression instantly hardened into stone.

A dangerous fire flared in his eyes. "A miscarriage? What the hell happened?!" I met his gaze and laid out the entire twisted story.

He paced across the Persian rug like a caged animal.

His hand twitched toward his pocket for a cigarette, but after glancing at me, he forced his hand back to his side. "The great Holden, heir to the city's top elite family.

Not only can't you get the girl, but you let your rival drive you to the edge of a roof." I scoffed. "Holden, I'm embarrassed for your father." Holden lifted his chin, stubbornly defending himself. "I don't even like Josie.

And I was just going up there to get some fresh air…" I shot him a deadpan look. "Then why did you go to such extreme lengths to go to war with Damon over her?" The tips of his ears turned a faint red.

He shot me a quick, evasive glance. "That's because… I think Josie looks like someone else." "No shit.

Does she look like a dog instead of a human?" "…You don't understand anything!" Just then, his phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen, then at me, hesitating as if he was struggling to find the words.

I kicked him right in the shin, leaving a dusty footprint on his perfectly tailored black slacks. "Spit it out!" He nodded toward my phone. "Check Twitter." I pulled out my phone.

It took me two agonizing minutes to load the app.

The top three trending hashtags were blazing in bloodred 'Viral' tags. [DamonBillionaireWeddingRehearsal VIRAL] [DamonAndJosieEpicLove VIRAL] Almost simultaneously, a notification popped up from a local celebrity gossip account.

The headline was explosive: [Damon's Wedding Rehearsal! Insanely Hot Groomsmen Protect the Girls! We are Obsessed with this Epic Friendship!] Attached was a photo collage.

Right in the center, Damon and Josie were staring deeply into each other's eyes, surrounded by a crowd of glamorous socialites.

In the very bottom corner of the last photo, Preston was wearing a sharp groomsman's suit.

He was leaning in slightly, his hands carefully steadying a woman who had nearly tripped over the hem of her dress. Chapter 4 It was Josie's best friend, Harper.

The camera angle was perfect, capturing the exact moment their eyes met. A lingering, undisguised smile played on Preston's lips.

The next photo showed the bride, Josie, tossing her bouquet over her shoulder. The pink and white arrangement landed dead center in a stunned Harper's arms.

The crowd erupted into cheers and laughter. Preston stood right beside her, holding her gaze as the camera froze the moment.

The trending hashtags practically burned my eyes: [JosiesBouquetToss] [PerfectGroomsmanMaidOfHonorMatch] The live feed on Twitter was refreshing at lightning speed, flooded with congratulations for this highly publicized fairytale romance.

I downed the glass of whiskey on the table in one shot and hurled the crystal tumbler onto the floor. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces.

I locked eyes with Holden, staring at him like he was a lethal weapon about to be unsheathed. "I heard you kidnapped Josie on Valentine's Day?" Ten minutes later.

An NSFWtagged post was pinned to the top of my Twitter profile. The caption read: Looks like my husband is getting a new girlfriend. Should I send them my blessings, guys?

The first photo was my marriage certificate with Preston. I had blurred out my own name and face.

The remaining seventeen photos were pure, unadulterated scandal: Preston tightly holding onto a halfdressed Harper. The lighting was dim, the atmosphere undeniably explicit.

Holden threw his hands up. "I wasn't even planning on taking Harper.

She kept screaming that if I took Josie, I had to take her too." "How was I supposed to know they wouldn't be able to keep their hands off each other after I dumped them in the middle of the damn woods?" When I first saw the floating text, I merely guessed they had crossed some boundaries.

But staring at the hard, filthy evidence right in front of me… I realized just how pathetic I really was.

Piggybacking off the massive hype of Damon's wedding, my post exploded almost instantly. [Wait, he looks familiar. Isn't that Damon's best man?!] [Holy shit, it IS him!

I've always heard the 1% are total freaks behind closed doors. So much for the fairy tale.] [Can't these billionaires afford a hotel room? This is wild.] [Bless the internet.

Back in the day, we'd never get this kind of premium drama for free…] [Hold up, isn't the guy the Chief of Surgery at a toptier hospital?] The public narrative flipped on a dime. [DamonBestManIntoTheWoods] [ChiefOfCardiologySecretMarriageScandal] Seconds later, my phone screen lit up.

Preston's name flashed frantically across the display. Holden glanced over. "Not going to answer?" I flipped the switch to silent.

I watched as the floating text, previously overflowing with digital flowers and congratulations, dissolved into sheer chaos. [What the hell is going on?!

The chapter title literally says 'Finale', why is there a massive plot twist?!] [Change of plans, homework is cancelled.

I'm glued to this drama.] [Wait, the second male lead has a wife?! Is this some random nobody trying to crash the party for clout?] [Bro, you clearly didn't read carefully.

It was literally mentioned in his introductory chapter that he was married, even if it was just one sentence…] The buzzing finally stopped, instantly replaced by a rapidfire barrage of text messages.

Preston: Harper and I aren't what you think. We were kidnapped that night and she was hurt… Preston: Genevieve, today is the most important day of Damon's life.

Do you really have to ruin everything for everyone right now? … Then, the final message dropped. Preston: Genevieve, why aren't you at home? Where the hell are you? Chapter 5