"So you really want to do this, Maureen?" Fiona asked,through the phone.
Maureen smiled, adjusting the dessert box she was carrying in her hands. “Of course! George will love the surprise.”
She paused. Then Fiona sighed. "Just be careful, okay?"
"I'm not going to a crime scene Fiona, it's just a surprise visit" Maureen said laughing softly.
She hung up the call and quickly entered the grand hotel lobby. Her heels striked against the marble floor. The lovely smell of fresh roses and expensive perfume filled the air. She hardly noticed the young pianist playing soft jazz in the background. Her heart raced in anticipation.
George had really hated long-distance relationships, always complaining about how much he missed her. If he truly missed her, he would be so excited to see her now.
She adjusted the edge of her ivory dress and approached the receptionist. “Good evening. I’m here to see George Williams. He’s expecting me.”
The receptionist, a young woman with sharp eyes and red lipstick, hesitated before nodding. “Room 709.”
Maureen turned toward the elevators, but a slight frown tugged at her lips. The receptionist’s hesitation—was that just her imagination? Or had she seen something in the woman’s eyes?
“Stop overthinking Maureen”, she thought to herself.
She entered the elevator and pressed the button exhaling.
As the doors slowly closed, her fingers curved tighter around the dessert box. It was a simple gesture—a surprise visit, she has gotten his favorite chocolate mousse from his favorite bakery. Just a reminder that their wedding was days away, that they belonged together.
Yet, something gnawed at her. She felt uneasy.
The elevator chimed, breaking the silence. The doors slowly opened.
She got out of the elevator and moved quietly towards the corridor, the sound of her steps reduced by the fancy red carpet on the floor of the hallway. Room 709 stood at the end of the corridor, its golden numbers shining under the soft lights.
Her excitement surged again, replacing the unease.
She raised her fist and knocked.
No response.
She knocked again. “George?”
Still nothing.
Her brows wrinkled. Maybe he was in the shower? Or asleep? She thought.
She tried the handle. It turned easily.
Her pulse rose.
"George?" she called out softly pushing the door open.
The room was dimly litted, scent of expensive perfume and faint traces of wine hanging in the air. The curtains were slightly opened, allowing only rays of the city lights to pass through.
Then, she saw them.
Two figures tangled under the silk bed sheets.
A woman’s bare shoulder. Dark curls spilling over the pillows. A familiar laugh—low, teasing.
Maureen’s stomach dropped.
The woman shifted, her face becoming visible in the faint light.
Celine.
Her younger sister.
And the man beside her?
George.
Maureen’s grip on the dessert box tightened until the cardboard in her hands crushed. The weight of the betrayal pressed down on her like a heavy load.
George turned lazily toward her, his eyes half-closed with sleep and satisfaction.
“Oh,” he murmured, fluttering his eyes as if she were some stranger. Then a slow and proud smile curved on his lips.
“You weren’t supposed to see this,” George said.
Maureen's breath seized. Her fingers trembled around the crushed dessert box. The room felt too small, making the air thick.
Celine stretched lazily, the silk bed sheets falling off from her body a little bit. “Oh, look who is here,” she spoke slowly, curving her lips into a smirk.
George breathed out slowly, running one hand through his messy hair. “You came unannounced, Maureen.”
Her heart pounded. Her mind screamed at her to say something at least to demand an explanation, but the words stuck in her throat.
Celine sat up, making no effort to cover herself up. Her dark eyes shone with amusement. “You look surprised. Don’t tell me you actually thought he was faithful?”
Maureen swallowed hard. “Why?” Her voice came out hoarse, barely a whisper.
George rolled his eyes. “Does it matter?” He leaned back against the pillows, completely unbothered.
“You were convenient. Easy.”
Her stomach twisted. “Easy?”
He let out a low chuckle. “Come on, Maureen. You were always so desperate to please. So eager to be the perfect fiancée.” He glanced at Celine, smirking. “It got boring.”
Celine leaned into him, laying an arm over his bare chest. “He needs someone who can keep up with him. Not some naive little girl like you.”
Maureen pressed her fingernails into her hands. This doesn't seem real. This had to be some kind of cruel nightmare. She thought.
“You never loved me," did you? she murmured.
George raised his shoulders. “Not really. But you were useful.”
Her vision was fading. The betrayal and humiliation she felt was so suffocating. All the promises and the whispered ‘I love you,’ all the moment she had cherished had all been a lie.
Celine leaned her head to the side. “Oh, Maureen, don't look so heartbroken."It’s not like you’re innocent.”
Her brows drew together. “What?”
Celine sighed dramatically. “You really think you could fool everyone, don't you?” She asked. "Sleeping around with Mr. Clems for money? How shameless."
Maureen’s breath seized. “What are you talking about?”
George smirked. “Come on. Half the city’s already talking about it. Poor little Maureen, selling herself to rich old men.”
Her body turned cold. “That’s a lie.”
Celine lifted a brow. “Is it?”
Maureen’s chest heaved. This was more than betrayal. This was destruction and they were enjoying it.
She staggered back, the dessert box falling from her hold, landing with a dull noise on the carpet.
Celine smiled. “Now, be the good girl you're and shut the door on your way out.”
A choking sound escaped from Maureen’s throat. Every part of her body screamed at her to fight back, to throw something at them, at least to make them feel the pain she was going through. But she couldn’t breathe or think.
Maureen’s fingers trembled as she forcefully pulled off the engagement ring, throwing it at George’s feet. “It’s over,” she spat out, her voice shaking.“We're done George."
She turned to leave, but Celine’s laughter stopped her cold. “Oh, Maureen,” she sighed mockingly. “You don’t get to walk away like some heartbroken victim.”
*******
The next morning, the headlines hit like a storm. "Maureen Daniels Exposed: Secret Affairs with Older Benefactors?"
Her phone buzzed nonstop—calls from distant relatives, messages dripping with judgment. Even her own mother’s voice turned sharp. “Don’t bother coming home.”
Maureen stared at her reflection. Ruined. Alone.
She needed an escape. Now.