Deny Me Watch Me Leave

In the deafening, alcohol-soaked roar of our ten-year college reunion, someone suddenly tossed out a question about the ones that got away.

When the question landed on my husband, Steven, the noise in the room seemed to dial back. His gaze floated right past me, weightless, before finally anchoring on the woman sitting beside him: Judy.

"It was Judy."

He didnt shout it. His voice was quiet, but it dropped like a heavy stone into a perfectly still lake. The ripples hit everyone in the room.

Judy clearly hadnt anticipated this. Her manicured hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening in genuine, breathless shock.

"Then... the letter I slipped into your backpack sophomore year," she asked, her voice trembling with a perfectly calibrated dose of grievance. "Why didn't you ever respond?"

Steven froze, his brows knitting together in confusion. "Weren't you dating Braden back then?"

And just like that, over the rim of half-empty cocktail glasses, an eight-year-old misunderstanding unspooled.

It turned out, Judy had slipped her love letter into the wrong black backpack. That one careless mistake was the only thing that had kept them apart.

The moment the truth settled over them, Judys eyes brimmed with cinematic tears. Steven stared at her, his typically guarded face stripped bare, completely awash in shock and profound, tragic regret.

Just then, a voice cut through the heavy air from across the table, dripping with sarcasm. "Come on, nobody is thatunlucky. Makes you wonder if someone noticed that letter and swapped it on purpose, right?"

The air in the private dining room evaporated. Every single pair of eyes snapped away from the star-crossed lovers and aimed directly at me.

Most of the people in this room had no idea that Steven and I had been married for five years. To them, I was just the clueless, delusional ugly duckling who had spent all of college chasing after the campus golden boy.

I turned my head to look at Steven. I was clinging to the very last, fraying thread of hope, praying he would say something. Anything. Just one sentence to clear my name. Just tell them that he was the one who had relentlessly pursued me.

But he didn't say a word.

He just sat there, looking at me with the same complicated, scrutinizing gaze as everyone else.

In that quiet, agonizing space between my heartbeat and my next breath, I reached beneath the table and silently twisted the wedding band I had worn for five years. I told myself what I had been avoiding for half a decade: This circus is finally over.

The drinks kept flowing.

Judy, crying a delicate, beautiful kind of tears, had scooted her chair flush against Stevens. They were entirely locked in their own world.

"I can't believe it was all a stupid mix-up," she whispered.

"If I had just written your name on the envelope, you wouldn't have thought... you wouldn't have thought I belonged to someone else."

Stevens eyes were heavy, dark with a sorrow I hadn't seen in him since his father died. "Nobody could have known."

"That it would end up like this."

Judy was getting emotional, aided by the four martinis shed downed. Stevenmy husbandstayed right by her side. His hand rubbed soothing, gentle circles on her back. He even flagged down a waiter to bring her a glass of iced lemon water to sober her up.

Not once did he look my way.

Around us, our former classmates buzzed like a hive of excited bees.

"God, you can't write this stuff. The ultimate missed connection, finally finding each other almost a decade later."

"So our valedictorian really was in love with the homecoming queen all along."

"Think about itif they had gotten together back then, theyd probably have kids in grade school by now."

Then, that same venomous voice from earlier chimed in again.

"Yeah, well, if a certain someone hadn't been so shamelessly throwing herself at Steven, maybe they wouldn't have lost all these years."

Their eyes darted toward me, not even trying to hide their disdain.

Under the table, my nails bit so hard into my palms that they broke skin. I pressed my lips into a thin line, refusing to give them a reaction.

After a flurry of whispering, a guy who used to be in our study group slid into the empty chair beside me. He leaned in, his breath reeking of cheap whiskey.

"Come on, Gemma. It was you, wasn't it?" he muttered, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just admit it. You switched the letter so they'd miss their shot."

Ice flooded my veins. I opened my mouth to defend myself, to tell him he was out of his mind, but the crowd didn't wait for my truth.

"I mean, it adds up."

"Everyone knew Steven and Judy were the golden couple waiting to happen. The sexual tension was insane."

"And then there was Gemma. Always lurking. Looking at Steven like a starving dog."

"We all saw it. Every time a late-night lecture ended, she was right there, begging him to walk the track with her. Who knows what kind of dirty tricks she pulled behind the scenes?"

"Swapping a letter is child's play for someone that desperate. Case closed."

They didn't know. They didn't know that Steven and I had been together for eight years, and married for five.

They only remembered that we were always together on campus. And in their narrative, it was because I was pathetic. A toad lusting after a swan.

But they didn't know the reality.

From day one, it was Steven who chased me.

But Steven was intensely private. He hated public displays. He never posted me on his Instagram, never paraded me around. Behind closed doors, he was the one pushing for the relationship, initiating every milestone. But to the outside world, his passive silence made him look like the innocent victim of my obsession.

He was the brilliant, untouchable business major, radiating potential wherever he went.

And I was the girl everyone agreed was punching above her weight.

But that didn't give them the right to humiliate me.

I turned my head and looked dead into the eyes of the guy sitting next to me. My face was a mask of cold stone.

"If you're tired of having a tongue in your mouth," I said, my voice dangerously soft, "I can help you cut it out."

The table went dead quiet.

A guy across from me slammed his fist against the mahogany wood, rattling the silverware. He pointed a finger at me.

"Who the hell do you think you are, Gemma?" he snapped. "If you were actually capable of anything, you wouldn't have spent eight years chasing a guy who still won't give you the time of day."

"Do you have any idea how much of a joke you are to everyone here? You really thought the ugly duckling was going to bag the prince."

A cruel ripple of muffled laughter washed over the table.

My eyes burned. A hot, humiliating flush crept up my neck.

I looked at Steven.

He glanced at me for a fraction of a second, then deliberately shifted his gaze to the wall.

In that moment, the platinum band on my left ring finger felt like it was burning through my flesh, constricting until my chest actually ached.

Aside from BeckettStevens business partner and oldest friendnot a single soul in this room knew the truth.

I was Steven's wife.

And today wasn't just a reunion. It was our fifth wedding anniversary.

I hated crowds, hated these forced nostalgic gatherings. I had only agreed to come because Steven had begged me for weeks.

Gemma, its been years. If we dont show up, people will think were hiding, he had pleaded. Its just some old faces. We should make an appearance.

I had stayed silent then. Steven wasn't exactly the life of the party either. His sudden, burning desire to attend a tacky alumni dinner made no sense.

Until I found out Judy was on the guest list.

When I had hesitated, he had pulled me into his arms, using that soft, coaxing tone he knew always broke my defenses.

Gem, youre always complaining that I dont claim you publicly. I promise you, at this reunion, Im going to stand up and tell everyone that youre my wife.

That was why I said yes.

Yet here I was, surrounded by a pack of wolves tearing me apart for "failing" to get the man I had slept next to for half a decade, and Steven was completely silent.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.

I calmly set my fork and knife down on my plate. A hollow, freezing laugh escaped my lips.

"Who says I never got him?"

Everyone froze. A few people literally leaned forward, practically vibrating with gossip.

"Wait, what? Are they... together?"

Beckett, sitting at the far end of the table, was the only one who knew the weight of my words. He had never liked me. He thought I was too sharp, too demanding, and somehow believed I had manipulated Steven into marriage.

Hearing the whispers, Beckett let out a sharp scoff and downed the rest of his bourbon.

"Some people just don't know their place," he muttered loud enough for the room to hear. "Zero self-respect."

I ignored him. My eyes were locked onto Steven like a sniper.

The moment the words had left my mouth, Stevens body had gone completely rigid. He froze, his glass hovering halfway to his lips. He shot me a glarea cold, terrifying warning. Don't do it.

Two seconds later, my phone vibrated on the table.

It was a text from him.

Don't mention the marriage. Now is not the right time.

I stared at the screen, a hysterical, bitter amusement bubbling up in my throat.

Not the right time?

No. It was just that he had finally realized his golden girl had wanted him back then. He thought there was a chance for them to rewrite history.

And I was supposed to quietly step aside and let them have their romance?

I placed my hands on the table and slowly stood up.

"Steven," I said, my voice echoing in the quiet room. "Weren't you going to tell everyone the truth?"

Steven stood up so fast his chair scraped violently against the hardwood floor. He was wound as tight as a coiled spring.

He stared at me for a long, agonizing moment. Then, his jaw locked, he turned to the crowd.

"Yes."

"Gemma and I... we dated for a while."

"But that was in the past. We broke up."

My head snapped back as if he had physically struck me. I stared at him, my fingernails digging so deeply into my palms I felt wetness.

Beside him, Judy looked up, her face blooming into an expression of pure, unadulterated joy.

"Really? You're... you're single right now?"

The room erupted. The tension broke into a chaotic cheer.

"Oh my god, I am so here for this!"

"This is literally a movie! The right people always find their way back to each other."

"I am dying. This is so romantic. I would sell my soul to see you two finally get together!"

Amidst the screaming and clapping, even Beckettwho usually looked at me with thinly veiled contemptshot me a look of genuine pity.

As he walked past my chair to hit the bar, he shook his head and whispered, "You brought this on yourself."

My legs gave out. I sank heavily back into my chair, entirely drained.

Never in my darkest nightmares did I imagine Steven would stand in a room full of our peers and publicly erase our marriage, effectively throwing me to the wolves.

The sarcastic jabs from the women across the table grew louder.

"Wow, I thought she was going to drop a bomb. Turns out shes just the bitter ex."

"Did you see the way she stood up? I literally thought she was going to claim she was his wife."

"Please. Look at her. Does she look like someone who could hold down a guy like Steven?"

I looked down at the diamond on my left hand. I felt utterly, irredeemably pathetic.

Seeing the blood drain from my face, Judys eyes flashed with triumphant cruelty. She picked up her champagne flute, walked around the table, and stopped right in front of me.

"Gemma, I know it hurts to lose," she said, her voice dripping with fake empathy. "But love is just like that. When its real, nothing can stand in its way."

"Steven admitted you guys had a fling. But clearly, you weren't the right fit. Otherwise, you wouldn't have broken up, right?"

She tapped her glass against my untouched water goblet, the crystal making a sharp clink.

"Cheers to moving on."

She tipped her head back and drank the whole thing.

I remained frozen in my chair, a ghost in my own body.

Later in the night, as Steven made his rounds with a bottle of tequila, he eventually reached my side of the table. Under the guise of clinking my glass, he leaned in, his breath warm against my ear.

"Gem, be an adult," he whispered fiercely. "Don't embarrass Judy."

I looked up at him, my eyes dead. Steven couldn't hold my gaze. He immediately stepped away, migrating right back to Judys side.

They were laughing. Whispering. I hadn't seen his eyes crinkle at the corners like that in years.

Soon enough, the crowd, drunk and loud, started chanting.

"Do a sweetheart shot! Come on, hook your arms! You owe us!"

The people who didn't know he had a wife waiting at home were relentless.

"Do it! It's a decade overdue!"

"You're both single! What are you afraid of?"

"Get him drunk enough and he'll have to take you back to your hotel, Judy! We're all adults here!"

The comments were devolving into raunchy, humiliating dares. I closed my eyes, a physical nausea washing over me.

Suddenly, Beckett, swaying slightly from the liquor, was standing next to me.

"Hey, Gemma, don't let it get to you. It's just alumni nostalgia," he slurred, though his eyes looked anxious. "Hes just caught up in the 'what-ifs.' You're his wife. Taking a shot isn't gonna end your marriage."

But even as Beckett said it, his brow was furrowed, his eyes darting nervously toward Steven.

Anyone with eyes could see it. Steven wasn't just playing along. He was drowning in it.

I started pouring vodka into my water glass, throwing it back straight. Again and again.

Even when I stumbled to the bathroom to throw up, holding my own hair over the toilet, Steven didn't come looking for me.

When I finally wiped my mouth and pushed back into the private dining room, the first thing I saw was Steven. He had Judy pinned against the edge of the table. Their bodies were completely flush.

They were kissing.

"Oh shit, Gemma's back!" someone yelled.

Steven and Judy ripped apart.

But it was too late. Stevens lips were visibly smeared with cherry-red lipstick.

He panicked, taking a step back from her, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. "Gemma, we were just playing a drinking game"

"A game, right?"

A cold, broken laugh ripped out of my throat. I grabbed the heavy crystal highball glass off the nearest table and raised it above my head.

Beckett lunged forward. "Gemma, stop, don't be crazy!"

He was too late.

I hurled the glass straight at the floor between Steven's feet. It exploded like a grenade. Shards of thick crystal flew in every direction.

"Ah! Steven, it hurts!"

One of the larger shards had sliced deep into Judys calf, right above her designer heel. Blood immediately bloomed through her sheer tights.

Stevens face morphed into absolute fury.

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Gemma?!"

I stared at him, the ice in my chest solidifying into something permanent. "Yeah. I guess I am."

I was out of my mind for ever believing in him.

Suddenly, a girl near the front of the room gasped, pointing at my left hand.

"Wait... Gemma, is that a wedding ring? Are you married to someone else? And you're here losing your mind over an ex?"

"Oh my god, she's actually married! Does anyone know her husband? Call him! Tell him his wife is out here acting like a psycho over Steven!"

She stepped toward me, aggressively reaching out to shove my shoulder.

I let out a low laugh and caught her wrist mid-air, my grip like a vice.

"My husband is dead," I said, staring unblinkingly into her eyes.

"Would you like to meet him? Because Ill happily send you six feet under right now."

The girls face lost all its color. She yanked her hand back, stumbling away from me in sheer terror.

"They're right. You're a complete psycho."

I let go of her, slowly twisting the platinum band off my ring finger. I looked at Steven, my lips curving into a sneer.

Before we walked into this restaurant tonight, he had been wearing the exact same band. Sometime between the coat check and the appetizers, he had slipped it into his pocket.

"Are you going to keep playing deaf and dumb?" I asked him, my voice devoid of any emotion.

"I don't have time for your unhinged bullshit right now!" Steven barked, his eyes glued to the blood trickling down Judy's leg. He scooped her up effortlessly into his arms.

"Hang on, Judy, I'm taking you to the ER."

"I'll drive!" someone yelled.

"We're coming too!"

Within seconds, the chaotic room emptied out, leaving behind nothing but half-eaten food, spilled wine, and shattered glass.

Beckett was the last to leave. He lingered by the door, watching me with a deeply conflicted expression.

"Gemma... you drank way too much tonight. Let me call you an Uber. Or I can drive you."

I brushed past him, knocking his hand away. "Don't bother."

I walked out to the street, hailed a cab, and gave the driver the address of the private hospital Stevens company always used.

When I walked onto the pristine VIP floor, I found him immediately.

He was sitting by Judys bed. He had stayed by her side, tending to her like she was made of spun glass, until he had literally fallen asleep in the chair next to her, his head resting near her hip.

I watched as Judy reached out, brushing his hair back, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. Then she looked up and saw me standing in the doorway. She froze.

A minute later, she limped out into the stark, fluorescent-lit hallway, closing the door behind her.

She immediately put on her pitiful, wounded-bird act.

"Gemma, I know you had feelings for him back in the day. But you heard him tonight. He doesn't love you anymore."

"You've clung to him for so long. If you were really the love of his life, he would have married you by now. But he didn't. That says everything."

"Please. Just for the sake of the good old days... have some dignity. Stop stalking him. Okay?"

If a stranger walked by, they would have thought I was the deranged mistress harassing the devoted girlfriend.

I looked at her. Really looked at her.

Judy. The campus untouchable. The girl with the perfect hair, the perfect grades, the fragile smile that made men want to bleed for her.

Even tonight, all she had to do was utter one sentence about a letter in a wrong backpack, and an entire room of adults swallowed it without chewing.

A cold smile spread across my face.

"Judy, drop the act. There's no audience here. Who are you performing for?"

Her pale face tightened. "What are you talking about?"

"You think I don't know? You think nobody saw you?"

I stepped closer, invading her space. "I was there. I watched you put that letter into Braden's bag. It wasn't a mistake. You addressed it to Braden."

Panic flashed in her eyes, sharp and fast. She took a step back. "You're lying."

"Braden was a 250-pound frat bro who barely passed intro to econ. Why on earth would I like him?"

My smile turned wicked.

"Because his dad owned half the real estate in the city."

I remembered it perfectly.

I remembered watching Braden's blacked-out Range Rover drop her off three blocks away from campus so nobody would see.

I remembered catching them at an upscale outdoor mall on a Sunday, her arm looped through his, watching them walk straight into the lobby of the Four Seasons.

And I remembered Steven back then.

He was breathtakingly handsome, but he was broke. He wore the same three threadbare flannels, carried a cracked phone, and spent every hour outside of class working double shifts at a diner or handing out flyers in the freezing rain.

I had been sitting in the stalls of the women's restroom when I heard Judy talking to her sorority sisters at the sinks.

"Steven is gorgeous, yeah, but he's destitute. Who cares if he has a 4.0? Once he graduates, he's just another guy drowning in debt."

"I'd be signing up for a life of struggling to pay rent. I'm not an idiot."

"Let the pathetic girls like Gemma have him. They deserve each other."

So, I knew exactly why Judy was suddenly so heartbroken over a "switched letter."

Steven wasn't the broke kid in the flannel anymore. He had built an empire. He was wealthy, powerful, and polished.

I also knew through the grapevine that Judy had recently been dumped by her married sugar daddy. The guy's wife had literally dragged her to a clinic to force an abortion.

She was desperate. She needed a new host to latch onto.

And my husband was her golden ticket.

Judy glared at me, her fragile facade dropping into something feral. "Go ahead. Run in there and tell him all that. Let's see who he believes. The girl he's been dreaming of for ten years, or the stalker he denied in front of fifty people tonight."

I threw my head back and laughed.

"Why would I tell him?"

"I came here tonight to tell you that you can have him. Steven is all yours. A gift."

Judy looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language.

I looked down at the ring in my palm.

Steven had bought this during the second year of his startup. It was the hardest year of our lives.

He had drained his entirely depleted savings to buy it. After he swiped his debit card at the jeweler, he showed me his banking app. He had exactly fifty-two dollars left to his name. Not enough for a week's worth of groceries.

But he had slipped it onto my finger, his eyes blazing with a fierce, desperate love.

Im going to give you the world, Gem. When we make it, Ill buy you anything you want.

I had thrown my arms around his neck, crying, feeling like the richest girl on earth.

I dont care about the money, Steven! As long as you love me, as long as Im with you, I already have everything.

The echo of those words in my head made me want to vomit.

We had no future left.

I took a deep breath, handed the ring to Judy, and dropped it into her palm.

"Here. Consider it a bonus."

She stared at the massive diamond, her eyes lighting up with unfiltered, greedy hunger, before her suspicion kicked back in. "Why are you doing this?"

"There's a catch, obviously."

I unzipped my clutch and pulled out a manila envelope, retrieving the document inside. I had signed it three days ago.

"Tell Steven to sign the bottom. We're getting a divorce."

Judy stood frozen in the corridor, her brain short-circuiting. Suddenly, the heavy wooden door to the hospital room swung open.

"Judy? Who are you talking to?"