Broken Ribbons, Diamond Wings Reclaiming My Crown

Trapped in this oceanfront villa for four agonizing years, my old iPad suddenly chimed with a Cloud Note notification. The title read: [The Choice at Eighteen]. It was a cloud diary I wrote ten years ago as a naive high school girl. In it, that young girl asked the future with wide-eyed hope: [Is it worth giving up my spot at the Paris Opera Ballet Academy just to help Julian launch his startup?] Every single word was soaked in the blind devotion of a girl in love. I stared at the screen for a long time before slowly lowering my gaze. My eyes landed on my broken, disfigured, and twisted feet. Just an hour ago, right in front of me, in our marital bed. Julian had pinned his twenty-year-old intern, Chloe, beneath him in a storm of lust. Chloe had even deliberately left a positive pregnancy test on the floor. A cold, bitter smirk tore across my lips as I pounded out a reply in the memo: [RUN! Before he breaks your legs, get on that plane to Paris!] The second I hit send, the screen froze. Immediately after, a new notification flashed up. [Eighteen-Year-Old Summer: Who are you? Julian just gave me a promise ring.] My pupils shrank violently. My heart skipped a heavy beat. Ten years ago, this cloud server didn't even exist. How could she possibly be replying in real time? Before I could wrap my head around it, the bedroom door was kicked wide open. A wave of cheap, sickening perfume flooded the air. Julian strolled in with his arm wrapped around his intern secretary, Chloe. Chloe was wearing my silk nightgown. She leaned against Julian's chest, her eyes darting straight to my crippled feet. "Julian, Summer's feet look so gross." Julian frowned in pure disgust. "Don't look at them. She's sickening." I clutched the old tablet tightly in my hands. "This is my bedroom." Julian let out a mocking bark of laughter. "The whole damn mansion is mine. You belong to me, too." "If you don't like it, crawl your ass out." I pointed at the plastic stick on the floor with its two glaring pink lines. "Take your trash with you." Chloe shrank behind Julian's back with practiced timidity. "Summer, please don't be mad at Julian." "It's all my fault. I forgot to take the morning-after pill." "But the baby in my tummy is innocent." Another classic performance from a manipulative home-wrecker. Nausea churned in my stomach. I glared directly into Julian's cold eyes. "You're actually bringing a bastard into this house?" Julian released Chloe and strode over to me. His bespoke leather dress shoe came down hard, grinding right into the top of my right foot. Right where he had shattered the bone with his own hands three years ago. The bone had long healed crooked and disfigured. "Shut up." "Chloe is twenty. It's the perfect age to bear my children." "Look at you. You can't even stand." Blinding agony shot from my foot straight to my brain. Cold sweat beaded instantly across my forehead. Three years ago, all I did was secretly submit a resume to teach beginner ballet. In a blind rage, he took a golf club and shattered both of my legs. He said my entire universe was only allowed to contain him. Ten years ago, it wasn't like this. Ten years ago, I twisted my ankle during rehearsals. Julian carried me on his back for three miles in the rain to get to the ER. Outside the emergency doors, his eyes were bloodshot as he swore on his life. He promised he'd never let anyone harm a single hair on my head. Now, the monster who destroyed me was him. "Get your foot off me." I squeezed the words out through clenched teeth. Instead of pulling away, Julian pressed down even harder. Chloe covered her mouth and giggled playfully. "Julian, you're so mean." "She's already a cripple. Don't be too rough on her." She swayed over, bent down, and picked up the pregnancy test. Then, she deliberately set it on the armrest of my wheelchair. "Give us your blessing, Summer." "Once my baby is born, I'll make sure he calls you Auntie." I swung my hand and knocked the test away. The plastic stick struck Chloe right in the shin. "Ouch!" Chloe shrieked and dramatically collapsed onto the floor. She clutched her flat stomach with both hands. "It hurts... Julian, my stomach hurts so bad..."Julian's face instantly twisted with rage. He reared back his leg and kicked my wheelchair with violent force. The wheelchair flipped backward. I slammed violently onto the cold, hard marble floor. The old tablet flew out of my grip and skidded under the bed. My legs twisted beneath me at a grotesque, unnatural angle. Excruciating, stabbing pain ripped through me. Julian scooped Chloe into his arms and glared down at me with pure murderous intent. "Summer, if anything happens to my son, I'll take your damn life!" He turned to rush Chloe out the door. "Wait." Chloe tugged at his lapel, her voice sweet and whiny. "Julian, I want Summer's pointe shoes." "The custom diamond-encrusted pair in the glass display case." My mind went completely blank. Those shoes were my trophy from winning the National Ballet Championship at eighteen. They were the very last shred of dignity left in my shattered existence. Julian nodded without a second thought. "Take them. She's a useless cripple anyway. What's she going to do with them?" "No!" My voice cracked into a hoarse scream. I dragged my lifeless lower body across the floor. "Julian! Don't you dare touch those shoes!" Julian stopped in his tracks, staring down at me like I was dirt beneath his feet. "Kowtow to Chloe and beg for her forgiveness." "If you don't, I'll burn every single pair of your stupid shoes to ashes." I bit into my bottom lip until it bled. "I am your lawful wife!" "She's nothing but a cheap side piece!" "Julian, have you completely lost your mind?!" Julian raised his foot and slammed it into my shoulder. I fell flat on my back once more. "Wife? You think you're worthy of being my wife?" Chloe leaned back in his embrace, laughing so hard her shoulders shook. "Summer, this isn't the 1950s anymore." "True love conquers all. What's a stupid marriage certificate worth?" "Stop being such a pathetic, lovesick loser." Lovesick loser. Ten years ago, I gave up the Paris Opera Ballet Company for him. I worked three jobs a day just to scrape together his startup capital. I lived in a rat-infested basement with him, eating fifty-cent instant ramen for a year. And now, his little intern was calling me a pathetic loser. Suddenly, I started laughing like a maniac. The laughter jarred my ribs, making me gasp through sharp, agonizing pain. "Julian, karma is going to tear you apart." Julian's expression darkened to pure malice. He set Chloe down on the nearby lounge chair and marched back over, grabbing a fistful of my hair. "Karma?" "I'm worth billions now! In this city, I AM the law!" He yanked my head back by force. Suddenly, his eyes caught the faint glow coming from under the bed. The old tablet was still open on that Cloud Note screen. A notification chime rang out clearly in the silence. [Eighteen-Year-Old Summer: I don't believe you. Julian swore he'd love me forever. Who are you really?] [Believe me. I am you at twenty-eight.]The text on the screen was painfully clear. Julian burst into cold, derisive laughter. "Summer, what kind of sick game are you playing now?" "Making a burner account, pretending to be eighteen, texting yourself?" "You think this pathetic roleplay is going to get my attention?" He shoved my head down violently. His heavy leather shoe kicked the edge of the tablet. The tablet slid across the floor, crashing hard into the baseboard, its screen spiderwebbing with cracks. "I'm not pretending." "That really is me from ten years ago." I gritted my teeth, fighting through the blinding pain in my shattered foot. Chloe rubbed her stomach and purred against Julian's back. "Julian, did she lose her mind?" "She's actually making up stories about time travel." "So pitiful. Not only is she crippled, but her brain is fried, too." The disgust in Julian's eyes deepened. He turned toward the glass display case in the corner, punched through the glass door, and snatched out the custom pointe shoes sparkling with diamonds. My breath caught in my throat. That was my entire life. "Julian, don't touch my shoes!" Dragging my dead, paralyzed legs, I crawled through the carpet of broken glass toward him. Shards of glass sliced deep into my palms. Julian pulled a sleek silver lighter from his pocket. Flick. A bright flame sprang to life. The firelight danced across his cruel, merciless features. "If you don't want me to turn them to ash, kowtow to Chloe right now." "One kowtow, and I leave you one shoe." "Counting down from three." I froze on the floor. I looked at the shoes that carried every dream and ounce of pride I ever had. Then I looked at my mangled, broken body. Slowly, I bowed my head. My forehead slammed hard against the freezing marble. "I'm sorry." Julian let out a mocking sneer. "Too quiet. Chloe didn't hear you." I bit down hard on my lip, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. "I'm sorry, Chloe." "I was wrong." Chloe looked down at me from above, letting out a tinkling laugh. "Summer, don't act like I'm bullying you." "If someone posted this on TikTok, they'd think I'm harassing the disabled." "Whatever, Julian, don't waste your breath on her." She reached out and snatched the pointe shoes from Julian's hands. Right in front of my face, she grabbed the silk ribbons and ripped them apart with a violent tug. Then, she tossed the mangled shoes straight into the trash can. "My baby says he doesn't like second-hand trash." "Julian, you'll buy me brand-new ones tomorrow, right?" Julian instantly wrapped his arms around her waist, his face dripping with indulgence. "Of course. I'll get you limited-edition designer pairs tomorrow." "Garbage like that isn't worthy of you anyway." My fingernails dug so hard into my bleeding palms that skin tore. My entire body trembled uncontrollably. Just then, from the cracked tablet by the baseboard, another chime echoed. This time, it wasn't a text. The system automatically played a voice memo. The voice was sweet, vibrant, and bursting with youthful joy. [Julian! I secretly canceled my ticket to Paris today!] [I'm staying to build your startup with you! If you ever break my heart in the future, I swear I'll break your legs!]That was the voice note I recorded on my eighteenth birthday, ten years ago. The bright, youthful voice echoed off the walls of the massive master bedroom. The smug smirk on Julian's face froze solid. He snapped his head around, staring dead at the shattered tablet. A voice recording from ten years ago couldn't suddenly upload into a modern cloud backup. Unless it was syncing in real time. "Where the hell did you get an AI clone of your teenage voice?" Julian marched over and stomped down hard on the tablet screen. The glass pulverized completely under his heel. He spun around and jabbed a furious finger at my face. "Summer, you're out of your damn mind!" "You think this pathetic guilt trip is going to change anything?" "Let me tell you something—successful men mess around outside all the time. It's normal!" Chloe chimed in right on cue. "Exactly, Summer! Who plays the submissive tradwife anymore?" "You can't even carry a child. Why are you clinging to the title of Mrs. Cross?" "Chloe can give me an heir. What the hell can you do?" Julian snapped coldly. I stared up at his expensive Italian shoes. "Ten years ago, you swore you'd rather die childless than watch me suffer through the pain of labor." "Now you brought your mistress to our marriage bed." "Julian, you make me want to vomit." Julian lost what was left of his temper and scooped Chloe into his arms. "Clear this room out." "Tomorrow, throw Summer down into the basement." "A pregnant woman needs a proper suite to rest. I won't have a lunatic bringing bad luck to my child." With that, he carried Chloe out without looking back once. The heavy door slammed shut, plunging the world into dead silence. I lay there flat on the floor, every single bone in my body screaming in pain. This was the ten-year marriage I bought with my shattered legs and abandoned dreams. Like a dog, I dragged myself toward the corner to reach the tablet. Whether the person on the other end was a hallucination or real, I had to tell my eighteen-year-old self: Don't cancel that ticket. Go to Paris. Just as my trembling fingers touched the pulverized screen... A faint blue glow pulsed from beneath the cracked display. The glass was shattered, but the motherboard was still alive. A new message popped up through the broken pixels. It was an image. In the photo, a torn airline ticket to Paris was being carefully pieced back together with clear tape. Then, a flurry of frantic text messages flooded the screen. [Eighteen-Year-Old Summer: I went through his phone.] [Eighteen-Year-Old Summer: He wasn't meeting investors. He was sexting his ex.] [Eighteen-Year-Old Summer: He told her that the second he secured my family's trust fund, he would dump me immediately.] My breath hitched. Ten years ago, I never knew any of this! Because twenty-eight-year-old me had typed "RUN," eighteen-year-old Summer grew suspicious. She checked his phone. The gears of destiny had been forcefully derailed. The past was shifting. A ragged, hysterical laugh tore from my throat. Tears mixed with blood dripped down onto the shattered glass. Everything Julian owned today—his billion-dollar empire—came from me selling my deceased parents' heritage brownstone to fund his dream. If eighteen-year-old Summer never stayed... If eighteen-year-old Summer took her money and boarded that plane to Paris... Julian wouldn't be a billionaire. He'd be absolute nothing! He would still be drowning in the massive predatory loan debts his ex had saddled him with! I wiped the blood from my eyes. Ignoring the glass cutting deeper into my raw hands. I used every ounce of strength left in my body to type my reply on the broken keyboard: [Twenty-Eight-Year-Old Summer: Take your ticket and fly to Paris.] [Twenty-Eight-Year-Old Summer: Pull every single penny of funding from him. Right now.] The green checkmark lit up, signaling the message was delivered. Suddenly, outside the bedroom doors, Julian's panicked, frantic roar echoed through the hall. "What the hell do you mean?! How could our entire capital credit line just collapse?!"