Chapter 2: A mistress in the details

IMOGEN'S POV

The rain relentlessly pelted against me as I stumbled into the deserted hotel that Elijah had abandoned me in front of.

I still didn't know how to feel. I had not the slightest idea how I was thugging it out when every part of me just wanted to crumble and sink to the floor.

I guess, getting out of the rain was more of a priority for me at that moment.

I looked above me at the giant sign of the hotel. The Oasis. A five-star hotel. I looked down at the envelope in my hands. It was packed with money. It would last me maybe four nights in a hotel of this class. It was refuge enough.

I forced myself to smile and hoped that the receptionist would just believe that the reason why my make-up was everywhere was because of the rain and not just because I was crying. Not that anything could hide that I was alone in a hotel at night and in a wedding dress.

"Your best room, please," I pleaded with the receptionist, my clothes clinging to my body as cold wrecked my body.

The receptionist looked at me from head to toe. She didn't say a word but her eyes told stories. They seemed judgemental.

"Our best room is the Deluxe Suite, but I must inform you it comes at a high cost," she replied coldly.

Money was the least of my concerns at that moment. With a heavy sigh, I handed her the envelope of money.

"I don't care. Just give me the key," I muttered, the weight of the wet fabric dragging me down.

The woman reached for the drenched envelope and flipped it open. I watched her eyes widen in surprise at the sheer amount inside. I didn't count it. I didn't care too.

She then emptied the contents onto the counter, counting meticulously. "This will last you for two weeks," she declared after totalling the amount. A few dollars were spared, and she handed them back. "Here is your change."

"Keep it," I croaked. Toughing it out was becoming unbearable. It felt like my body could give way at any moment, and tears threatened to burst forth in front of this stranger. "Just give me the key."

"Here," the woman handed me the key with a face of indifference. I took it without meeting her gaze, a heavy lump forming in my throat as I tried and failed to mount a thank you.

I then got on my way. The tag told me that my room was on the second floor. Room 28 to be precise.

I was happy to find the escalator empty. It let me have a minute to myself. I used to think about what to do next. But strangely, nothing novel came to mind. I just couldn't help but wonder, why me?

Marriage was supposed to be an achievement for many. I wasn't spared from that truth either.

There are three things you need if you want to have an easy life in the world I grew up in. Be born with a cock. It solidified your right as God's greatest creation. Be beautiful. And lastly, be born into a family where your mistakes won't cost you your youth.

I was born with two disadvantages. I wasn't born a man and my family wasn't rich but I wasn't the most unlucky woman out there. I was born with a pretty face. Somehow I thought... No. It wasn't me who thought that. It was my parents. Somehow they thought a pretty face would be enough to get me into a family where my mistakes wouldn't cost me my youth anymore.

But had I been wrong? Had this union been a mistake that would also cost me my youth too?

Buried in my own thoughts, I eventually found myself in the Deluxe Suite.

The hotel room welcomed me with a muted warmth, but my shivering persisted.

Locking the door behind me, I proceeded to struggle out of my drenched wedding dress. It was the most glaring remnant of the broken promises a man just shared between me and God.

My walls came crashing down when I entered the suite's bathroom. I looked horrendous in the mirror. My mascara was running down my cheeks. My hair which had taken hours to put in place was a mess and my eyes and lips were swollen.

This was what the receptionist saw. This was what anybody who looked my way saw.

I stepped into the shower and ran my fingers in the valve that promised to reward me with warm water.

Tears mingled with the rain of warm water. It offered a feeble solace to my battered spirit.

When I was done, I wore one of the hotel's complimentary robes, it was the only dress I had. My mom had not been keen on carrying my stuff to the Rossi house because it wasn't fitting for the woman I was about to be. I chuckled bitterly at how wrong she had been because I needed my faded blue jeans and hillbilly shirts she would call it more than ever now.

Thinking about my mom made me realize that it was better if she knew the bitter truth now before she came visiting tomorrow only to discover her daughter who was supposed to be the maiden the woman we're jealous of had been ruthlessly disgraced by the man who was supposed to cherish her.

I struggled to contain my despair as I walked towards the hotel's antiquated telephone. It wasn't because of Elijah. No. My mother had looked forward to this union. Perhaps even more than me. The news would shatter her.

When my hands reached the phone, I hesitated. Could I do it? Could I speak the words?

I finally summoned the courage to dial home. Not because I could speak the words. But because I wanted to share my pain with somebody.

When the call went through, I was immediately greeted with the familiar sounds of celebration which was a stark contrast to the desolation I felt. It sounded like a party. An after-party.

"Hello?" Her happy voice filled the line. "Who is this?"

"Mom, it's Imogen," I replied.

"Imogen, sweetheart! Oh, it's so good to hear from you. We're in the middle of a celebration here. All for you by the way. You won't believe the joy that's going on here. Your father and I are over the moon!"

They sounded so fulfilled. Tears dropped down my cheek as I realized what telling her was going to do to her. They had people over to celebrate me. One sentence from me and all of that was going to burn to the ground. The whole world would know that Imogen Stone couldn't keep a home. Rumours would fly left and right. Truth or lies, it really didn't matter but I would be at the forefront of all of that. Me, not Elijah when he was the reason for the hell in the first place.

"Why'd you call by the way?" Mom continued, breaking my train of thought. "Shouldn't you be with your husband?"

"I just miss home, Mom," I lied, my voice breaking slightly. "Elijah's already asleep, and I found myself needing some familiar voices."

"Oh, sweetheart, it's perfectly normal to feel that way, especially on your wedding night. I remember feeling the same. Don't worry; I'll visit you tomorrow. I'll bring all your clothes and maybe spend some time with you. How does that sound?"

That sounded bad. That sounded like the recipe for a heart attack. But I couldn't tell her no because that would just cause her to worry endlessly.

"Sounds wonderful, Mom," I forced out with a smile.

"See you tomorrow then, sweetheart."

"Hmmm." The line went dead and I placed the handset back in place.

I sat there in silence wondering if it was wiser to keep the facade running for longer. My mother didn't deserve to have her happiness taken away from her just as mine had been taken.

So I put on her a brave front and with determination, dialed Elijah's number.

I wasn't hoping for some semblance of closure. Not anymore. I just wanted to beg him to keep my mom in the dark if she visited tomorrow and didn't find me in my matrimonial home. He owed me that much.

The phone rang, each tone echoing the uncertainty that clouded my mind. When someone finally picked up, it wasn't Elijah's voice that greeted me but that of a strange woman.

"Hello?" She spoke, her tone laced with curiosity.

"Hello?" I repeated, out of sheer confusion as a thousand thoughts popped into my head. It was late and I was certain I dialed Elijah's number. I had it memorized to the T just as my mother requested. So why was a woman picking up his call? "I am sorry, who is this?"

"Who is asking and what do you want?" she retorted bluntly, catching me off guard.

I hesitated, my words catching in my throat. "Is Elijah there? I need to speak with him."

"He's not available right now. Who's this?"

So this was the right number. What was going on?

"It's... it's Imogen, his wife. Can you please tell him to call me back? It's urgent."

"He's busy. I'll try to pass the message along, but don't expect much."

Before I could respond, the line went dead.

The abrupt end to the call left me with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. As I stared at the lifeless telephone, a gnawing suspicion crept into my thoughts. The strange woman's responses, the avoidance, and Elijah's sudden switch– the pieces began to connect in a painful realization.

A sharp ache gripped my chest as the truth loomed before me. Elijah had abandoned me, not out of confusion or indecision, but to be with another woman.

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