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125 The Price of Testimony
Hazel’s POV
The funeral hall fell into an eerie silence as Alistair knelt before me, diamond ring extended like some twisted offering. His eyes pleaded with me, completely oblivious to the grotesque spectacle he was creating.
“Say yes,” he repeated, his voice dropped to that gentle whisper he’d once used to
make me melt.
I stared at the ring-the same one he’d taken back from me to place on Ivy’s finger. The same one that had resided on her cold, dead hand until very recently. The thought made my stomach turn.
“Get up, Alistair,” I said flatly. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
He blinked in confusion but remained kneeling. “Hazel, don’t you understand? I’m trying to make things right.”
“By proposing at your dead wife’s funeral?” I stepped back. “There’s nothing right
about this.”
Aunt Helen moved to stand beside me, her presence a silent pillar of support. Around us, the funeral guests whispered among themselves. Some looked scandalized, others intrigued by the drama unfolding.
“You heard her,” Helen said coldly. “Get up.”
An older woman-Ivy’s grandmother-shuffled forward. “Young lady, he’s offering you a second chance. Don’t be hasty. Marriages are hard to come by these days.”
Several other relatives nodded in agreement. Even my father gave me a pointed look, clearly expecting me to accept this farce of a proposal.
I almost laughed at the absurdity. These people had watched Alistair abandon me for my dying stepsister, and now they expected me to welcome him back with open arms?
“I’m afraid I must decline,” I said, my voice clear and steady. “Our divorce hearing is scheduled for next month. I see no reason to change that.”
Alistair finally rose to his feet, his face flushed with embarrassment and anger.
“Divorce? What are you talking about? We were never officially married.”
“The courts disagree,” I replied coolly. “Our six-year relationship, combined with our public engagement and shared assets, constitutes a common-law marriage in this
state. My lawyers have already filed the paperwork.”
His face went pale. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t-”
“Actually, I can.” I smiled thinly. “And I am.”
The whispers around us grew louder. Alistair’s eyes darted nervously to the faces watching our exchange. This wasn’t how his grand gesture was supposed to play out.
“This is just spite,” he accused, snapping the ring box shut. “You’re doing this to punish
me.”
I studied him for a moment. “No, Alistair. I’m doing this because you owe me. Six years of my life, my blood in your veins, my hard work in our company. You think you can discard me and then reclaim me when it’s convenient? Life doesn’t work that way.”
A few heads nodded in the crowd. I noticed some of the relatives exchanging glances.
It was time to go for the kill.
“In fact,” I said, addressing the room at large, “the divorce hearing is set for the 15th of next month. Anyone who wishes to attend and testify about Alistair’s behavior during our relationship would be most welcome.”
Alistair’s face darkened. “What are you doing?”
I ignored him. “As a token of my appreciation, I’m prepared to offer a lifetime forty percent discount on all Evening Gala brands to any family member who provides testimony.”
The reaction was immediate. Eyes widened. Evening Gala was one of the most prestigious fashion brands in the country, and a forty percent discount was practically
unheard of.
“I have videos!” a cousin of Ivy’s suddenly blurted. “From last Christmas, when he was feeling up that waitress while you were in the kitchen!”
“I’ve got text messages,” another chimed in. “He was hitting on my roommate two years ago.”
“He borrowed money from me and never paid it back!”
One by one, relatives began volunteering information, their loyalty to Alistair dissolving in the face of designer clothes at bargain prices.
Alistair stood frozen, his mouth hanging open in shock. “You can’t be serious,” he stammered. “These people don’t know anything!”
“Oh, but they do,” I replied. “It seems you weren’t as discreet as you thought.”
Aunt Helen suppressed a smile beside me. “I have quite a few stories myself,” she added.
The room erupted into a cacophony of voices, each person trying to outdo the others with their damning evidence against Alistair. His face grew redder by the second as his careful public image crumbled around him.
“This is ridiculous!” he shouted. “You’re all lying!”
No one paid him any attention. They were too busy exchanging contact information with my assistant, who had materialized at my side with a tablet to record names and testimony offers.
I leaned closer to Alistair. “You tried to use public pressure to force my hand,” I whispered. “How does it feel when the tables are turned?”
His face contorted with rage. “You vindictive bitch. You planned this all along.”
“No,” I corrected him. “I simply recognized an opportunity when I saw one. Something you taught me, remember?”
Before he could respond, a piercing scream cut through the chatter. Tanya had finally snapped.
“ENOUGH!” she shrieked, her voice echoing off the walls. “THIS IS MY DAUGHTER’S
FUNERAL!”
The room fell silent as Tanya stalked toward Alistair, eyes blazing with fury.
“You,” she hissed, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You stand here, in front of my baby’s picture, and propose to her stepsister? The woman she hated more than anyone?”
Alistair backed away. “Tanya, please understand—”
“Understand what? That you married my daughter out of pity?” Tanya’s voice rose hysterically. “That you were just waiting for her to die so you could run back to HER?”
She pointed at me, but for once, her rage wasn’t directed my way. All her venom was reserved for Alistair.
“You disgust me,” she spat. “Both of you deserve each other.”
With that, she stormed back to her seat, collapsing into sobs. My father awkwardly patted her shoulder, shooting daggers at me with his eyes.
Aunt Helen squeezed my arm. “I think it’s time we left,” she murmured.
I nodded, having accomplished more than I’d hoped for. As we turned to go, I caught
one final glimpse of Alistair-still standing in the middle of the room, ring box clutched in his hand, surrounded by people eagerly offering to testify against him.
The look on his face was worth every moment of heartbreak he’d ever caused me.
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