The ex-husband called her “empty space” at the school reunion. But then a famous artist took the stage and did something unexpected.
She stood before the heavy oak doors of the assembly hall, her palms damp with sweat. The hum of voices, laughter, and faint music seeped through the cracks, each sound sharpening the ache in her temples. Why had she even come? Ten years had passed.
Ten years of rebuilding herself, brick by brick, from the ruins of what had once been left behind these walls.
She pulled out her phone. The unsent message to Steven still glowed on the screen: *”Are you sure about this? Maybe we shouldnt.”* Hed have replied with something encouraginghis usual way. Told her it was time to shut this door forever, to face her fears head-on. She knew he was right. But fear still clawed at her throat. She deleted the words, took a deep breath, and pushed open the doors.
The air inside was thick with perfume, warm nostalgia, and the faint scent of canapés. Her entrance caused barely a ripple. A few half-hearted nods, then eyes shifted away. She didnt mind. She spotted an empty table near the back and slipped toward it, hoping to stay invisible.
But luck wasnt on her side.
*”Well, well. Look who crawled out of her cave. Emily.”*
The voicesharp, mockingsent a jolt through her. David hadnt changed. The same smug smile, the same tailored suit that screamed success without words. He stood at the center of their old classmates, the golden boy, surrounded by those whod always clung to power.
*”David, please,”* she said softly, forcing a smile as dozens of eyes turned her way.
*”Please what?”* He took a step closer, relishing the attention. *”People should know their heroes. Me? Owner of a property empire. Claire? Top surgeon at a private hospital. James? MP. And Emily”*
He paused, theatrical, and the room stilled.
*”Emily stayed exactly where she belonged after the divorce. Nowhere. Just empty space I finally cut loose.”*
Snickers rippled through the crowd. Needles of shame pricked her skin. She wanted to vanish. David smirked, drunk on his own cruelty.
That was his giftknowing where to strike. And just like ten years ago, she stood mute, lips sealed.
*Say something!* the voice in her head screamed.
But the words wouldnt come.
Thenthe doors swung open.
A rush of cool air swept in, and *he* stepped through.
Steven Wilde. The legend of their school, now a rockstar whose songs blasted from every radio in the country. No one had expected him.
Except her.
He nodded lazily to a few stunned faces, scanning the roomsearching.
David straightened, preening, as if Stevens presence was another trophy. But Stevens gaze slid right past him.
It landed on Emily.
And he movedcutting through the crowd like a blade through water.
*”Thought youd chicken out,”* he murmured, voice warm, fingers brushing her elbow. *”Ready to light up this place, love?”*
The word *love*, spoken in that velvet voice, hit harder than a gunshot.
David blinked, his smirk faltering. *”Wilde? What the hell are you doing here? And whats thissome kind of joke?”*
Steven didnt even glance at him. His fingers laced through Emilys.
*”Answer me!”* David snapped.
Only then did Steven turn. Calm. Cold. *”You havent changed. Still love being the centre of attentioneven when its not yours.”*
*”Whats that supposed to mean?”*
*”Christ, David.”* Stevens smile was razor-thin. *”You look, but you never *see*. You think you know someone? All you see is what suits you.”*
The crowd leaned in, breathless.
David scoffed. *”Oh, this is rich. What, shes pregnant? Thought youd snag a celebrity, Em?”*
Emily flinchedbut before she could speak, Steven stepped between them.
*”Close,”* he said, low and dangerous. *”Just five years late. Were not expecting a child, David. Were raising one. *Our* son.”*
The room erupted. Gasps. Whispers. Phones lifted to record.
Davids face twisted. *”Bullshit! You expect people to believe *she*”* he jabbed a finger at Emily, *”had *your* kid? Hidden all this time? Shes a *nobody*!”*
And something inside Emily
*Snapped.*
She stepped forward.
*”‘Empty space,'”* she repeated, voice steel wrapped in silk. *”Thats all I ever was to you. A prop for your ego. But heres the truth, Davidwhile you were busy playing king, I was writing the anthems you hummed in your car.”*
Her gaze swept the room.
*”Every song Steven ever made famous? Every lyric the country sang? They were mine. Im the ghostwriter the press has been hunting for years. So tell me, Davidwhos really the empty one here?”*
Silence.
Thenapplause.
Davids empire crumbled that night. The video went viral. The *”rockstar and his secret muse”* headline burned through the tabloids.
Six months later, Emily Wildeno longer hiddensigned a seven-figure book deal. Their son, Oliver, bragged to his friends: *”Mum writes the words, Dad sings them.”*
As for David?
His empire collapsed. Partners fled. The man whod spent years belittling the woman behind a national icon became a punchline.
Once, she passed him in a grocery store. Hunched. Hollow.
He didnt even meet her eyes.
That night, Emily sat by the window of their country home, watching Steven chase Oliver through the garden. Laughter floated up.
She opened her notebook.
No more writing from the shadows.
No more empty spaces.
Just light.
