His Fake Proposal Led Me To My Real Husband Chapter 07
I remembered being seven or eight years old, skinning my knee after falling off a swing.
Julian had run over, pulled me up from the ground first, and only then crouched to inspect the injury.
“Get up first,” he’d said back then. “The ground’s too cold.”
Just like now.
The recording was still playing, the guests murmuring below the stage, but standing behind Julian, all those voices felt distant.
Whenever Mason tried to comfort me, he’d say things like, *Don’t be mad, it won’t happen again, you need to see my side of things, too.*
Mason always waited for me to calm down. Julian pulled me to my feet first, getting me away from the place where I could still get hurt.
I lowered my eyes to my own hand.
Julian’s fingers weren’t tight around mine. I could pull free at any moment. Or I could hold on tighter.
My eyes began to burn, but this time, it wasn’t from pain.
The recording continued.
Tyler asked, “What if she gets mad?”
Mason paused for two seconds.
“Then let her be mad. When she’s done, she’ll still come back to me.”
Drunk, Tyler slurred, “Good. Then let’s sit back and watch Princess Rebecca cry.”
“I’m recording it. We can play it at every party from now on.”
Mason made a vague sound of agreement. He didn’t stop him.
Listening to it now, all I felt was a cold, clean anger.
The question that had been suffocating me for so long finally had an answer.
I turned to the corner by the side door.
Natalie was standing there alone, away from Mason’s crowd. The light from her phone illuminated her face, her hand paused over the playback screen.
A moment ago, I’d thought she was just taking a video. Only now did I realize she’d been collecting evidence all along, waiting for the courage to finally press play.
When Mason heard the recording, panic flashed in his eyes.
“Becca, I was drunk that day. Things said while drinking don’t count.”
“Come down. Let’s talk about this in private.”
“Today was my fault, but you don’t have to use your marriage to get back at me.”
“This is our engagement party. Don’t ruin it just because you’re angry.”
I looked at him, and the absurdity of it all was almost funny.
Even now, he still thought I was just throwing a tantrum.
“Mason.”
I spoke calmly.
“I found this venue. I chose the flowers. I picked the menu. I folded a thousand of those favor boxes with my own hands.”
“Who stands up here with me is my decision.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me.”Â