“The Stage She Never Wanted”

(Lilly’s Point of View)

I shouldn’t have come inside.

I told myself I would stay in the corner.

Just deliver the dress, watch Natalia dazzle, and leave unseen.

But life had other plans.

Or maybe fate was just cruel.

Because the moment I stepped into that ballroom, I felt it.

The air shift.

His gaze find me.

Neo.

Even across the crowd, I knew that look.

It wasn’t surprise.

It was that same silence.

The one he’s wrapped around me like chains since our wedding day.

He didn’t blink.

Didn’t move.

Just stared — like I was something he wanted to erase, but couldn’t.

I turned my head first.

But I felt it.

The tension that snapped the moment our eyes met.

I tried to leave.

But Natalia caught my arm. “Don’t. You can’t walk out now.”

“I already saw everything I needed to.”

“Exactly. And so did he.”

She nodded subtly — and I turned back, only to realize...

He was walking toward me.

---

The crowd faded.

The lights dimmed.

And all I could hear was the sound of his polished shoes hitting the marble floor — steady, slow, certain.

He stopped two steps away.

I didn’t speak.

Neither did he.

For a second, it felt like we were back at the altar.

Standing inches apart, strangers in matching rings.

His voice finally broke the silence — low and cold:

“Still designing lies, aren’t you?”

I flinched.

Not visibly.

Not enough for the crowd to notice.

But inside? It felt like thunder.

“I only design dresses,” I said quietly.

His jaw clenched. “You always were good at appearances.”

“Is that what this is about?” I asked. “The dress? Or the fact that for once, something I made actually stood in the spotlight?”

His eyes darkened. “Don’t push it, Lilly.”

I looked at him. Really looked.

The Neo I knew — or thought I knew — was gone.

All that stood in front of me was a man built from ice and betrayal, too angry to believe in the truth, too proud to ask for it.

But I wouldn’t shrink.

Not tonight.

“You can hate me all you want,” I said, voice steady. “But you don’t get to rewrite what happened.”

He stepped closer. Voice low. Controlled.

“You think I don’t know?”

“That night wasn’t an accident. You wanted that scandal. You waited for it. You knew what Rulia meant to me.”

His words cut sharper than any blade.

I swallowed. “If you truly believed that… you wouldn’t be here asking like you still need to be sure.”

He froze.

For the first time, I saw something break behind his eyes.

Doubt.

Or maybe the truth clawing its way out.

I turned to walk away.

But his voice followed me — soft, venomous, aching:

“For the pain you caused me… I’ll never forgive you.”

I stopped.

Felt my heart stumble.

Then said, without turning back:

“That’s alright. You never really knew me long enough to try.”

And I walked away.

This time, he didn’t stop me.My heels clicked against the marble like thunder in a silent storm.

Each step farther from him. From the ache. From the weight I had carried far too long.

But just as I reached the edge of the ballroom—

The crowd gasped.

Flashes burst through the silence.

Phones lifted. Voices hushed, then swelled.

I turned.

And the breath left my body.

Rulia.

Three years.

No social posts. No press. No sightings.

She had vanished after the scandal — after leaving me to be crucified by her silence.

And now, she walked into the ballroom like she owned the galaxy.

She wore silver — liquid, flawless — like moonlight had melted into fabric just for her.

Her hair flowed. Her smile was calculated.

Every eye in the room belonged to her.

Even his.

I saw Neo’s face.

Lit up — almost involuntarily.

He didn’t move, but something in him did.

And suddenly, the past wasn’t the past anymore.

My stepmother, Leya, was already rushing toward the stage.

My father stood behind her, expression unreadable.

Rulia took the mic from the host with perfect ease, flashing her iconic smile.

The cameras blinked. The air thickened.

She spoke.

“Good evening, everyone. I know… it’s been a while.”

Applause. Whispers. Press questions rising too fast to control.

She waited, then continued.

“I left without answers. Without clearing anything. And for that… I owe something.

Not just to the people here, but to someone standing in this room.”

Her eyes found mine.

I froze.

“Someone I wronged. Someone I judged, just like the rest of the world…

My sister. Lilly.”

The crowd turned.

Lights shifted.

Spotlight fell—

on me.

I wanted to vanish.

My feet rooted. My heart racing. My lungs struggling.

I wasn’t meant for this. I never wanted the stage.

Especially not beside her.

But then she said:

“Lilly… would you come up here?”

Her voice was kind and echoed across the grand ballroom, amplified by the mic, heavy with meaning.

Too sweet. Too public.

My heart pounded.

Everyone was watching.

Their gazes pierced into my skin like pins.

I hadn’t been invited here.

I hadn’t even existed in this world for the past three years.

And now?

Now, I was being summoned to the stage by the same girl who once let me burn.

I took a step forward — hesitant, slow.

I didn’t know why I was going.

Only that I was tired of hiding.

Tired of being the one always watching from the shadows.

As I reached the bottom of the steps, the lights followed me — too bright, too harsh.

I felt like I was standing under judgment, not beside family.

Rulia turned to face the crowd, her arm outstretched, as if we were sisters in harmony.

But then—

a voice shattered the moment.

“Miss Rulia!”

A male reporter’s voice, sharp and merciless.

“Is this your way of reconciling with your sister…

or a public act to forgive the home wrecker who ruined your relationship with Neo Odell?”

Gasps rippled through the ballroom.

Cameras froze.

Eyes darted between me and her — between the “white flower” and the girl they thought wilted in her shadow.

My blood ran cold.

I didn’t look at Neo.

I didn’t have to.

I could feel him.

Still. Watching. Burning.

The crowd buzzed in silence.

Rulia’s smile flickered — just barely — before she lifted the mic again, regaining control.

“Relationships,” she began, voice still soft, “are often misunderstood. The truth… is always more complicated than the rumors.”

She glanced at me — not warmly, but like a queen deciding whether to show mercy.

“But tonight is not about blame. It’s about growth. It’s about sisterhood. And maybe,” she added, turning back to the crowd, “about forgiveness too.”

Forgiveness.

That word again.

She said it like a blade wrapped in silk.

The room clapped.

The press lit up again.

The spotlight returned to me.

But no one asked if I wanted it.

I stood beside her, stiff and cold.

And in that moment, all I wanted — more than escape, more than peace —

was the truth.

Because maybe I could take the hate.

But I couldn’t keep standing beside lies I never told.

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