The Big Wife's Revenge: From Model to Queen novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Split Seam
The dress splits at the first dance and Roxie ends the marriage in front of 300 guests.
My wedding dress split down the back during the first dance.
I heard it before I felt it, a long wet tear of silk.
Three hundred guests heard it too.
The band stopped playing, one instrument at a time.
Corbin's hand was still on my waist, and his fingers moved away.
That was the first thing I noticed.
He did not hold the gown shut. He let go.
I am a size twenty, and I had spent seven years being told that was the reason I waited.
Seven years of engagement, because Corbin was never ready.
The fittings had been perfect. The seamstress had checked every seam twice.
I looked past his shoulder and saw his mother standing by the champagne tower.
Honoria Hallworth was smiling.
She wore black silk and the pearls she had told me were lost years ago.
Corbin finally spoke, low, so only I could hear. "Go and change, Roxie."
"Into what? I don't have another dress."
"Then go and sit somewhere. You're making a scene."
Someone near the cake laughed.
A phone came up, then three more.
Monique Merrick drifted into the middle of the floor with a glass in her hand.
She was Hallworth's star model, five foot eleven and thin as a coat hanger.
She was also the woman Corbin had dated before me, though nobody had told me that until the engagement party.
"I think we should toast the bride," Monique said. "Seven years of begging, and she finally got him."
The room laughed again, louder.
"Isn't that the dream? To be so patient. Some girls just have more room to wait."
Honoria lifted her glass. "To Roxie. She never gave up."
Corbin said nothing.
I looked at him and waited for him to say something.
Anything.
His jaw was tight, and his eyes were on the floor.
I understood then that he would stand there until I went away.
I had stood in doorways for him for seven years.
I had said no to a campaign in Milan because he asked me to be home.
I had learned to laugh at his mother's jokes about my hips.
I took my hand off the torn back of the dress.
It fell open to my waist.
I did not cover it.
I walked straight to the band stand, past the gasping tables, and took the microphone from the singer's hand.
"Hi, everyone," I said. "I'm Roxie Ludlow, the bride."
Nobody laughed this time.
"I waited seven years for this. I want everyone to remember that I did."
My voice was shaking, and I let it.
"Monique is right. I begged. I stopped working for him. I made myself small in every room his mother stood in."
I pulled the ring off my finger.
It stuck at the knuckle, and I worked it free slowly, so they could all see.
"I'm done waiting. This marriage is over, as of right now."
I set the ring down on the cake, in the white frosting, and left it standing there.
Corbin finally moved.
He came across the floor, fast, and caught my elbow.
"Roxie, stop. Get off the stage. We'll talk at home."
"This is the home you promised me," I said. "I'd rather sleep in the street."
He leaned in so close I could smell his cologne.
Honoria's voice carried across the whole room, sweet and clear.
"Let her go, darling. She'll be back by Monday."
I pulled free of him and picked up my skirt in both fists.
Hettie Pelham was standing at the back of the tent, in her good cardigan, with my coat over her arm.
She had not said a word all day, but her face was wet.
She held the coat open for me.
I put it on over the ruined dress and walked down the long aisle between the tables.
Nobody stopped me.
At the tent flap, Corbin called after me, loud enough for everyone.
"You're nothing without my name, Roxie! Nobody in this city will touch you without it!"
I stopped.
I turned around slowly.
Three hundred faces looked back at me, and every phone was raised.
"Then I guess," I said, "we're going to find out."
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