I Was the Joke: Now I'm the Punchline They Fear

The Divorce Party

The champagne flowed like water through the Bradford mansion, and Marcus Chen stood in the corner watching his marriage die to the sound of laughter.

He'd positioned himself near the marble pillar by the east wing entrance, far enough from the crowd to be forgotten, close enough to fulfill his purpose for being there. 

The pillar was cool against his shoulder , a small comfort against the suffocating heat of two hundred people in the hall.

Designer dresses swished past him. Expensive cologne mixed with the scent of imported roses that Judith Bradford had flown in from Ecuador for the occasion. Everything in this house was excessive. Everything except his worth.

"More champagne, sir?"

Marcus glanced at the young server, who couldn't be more than twenty-two, probably working his way through college. 

"No, thank you," Marcus said quietly.

The server nodded and moved away, and Marcus returned his attention to the dance floor where his wife—soon to be ex-wife—swayed in the arms of another man.

Victoria Bradford wore red tonight. Crimson silk that clung to her curves and made her dark hair seem even darker against her pale shoulders. She'd always looked beautiful in red.

Marcus had told her that once, years ago, on their third date when she'd worn a red sundress to a picnic in Central Park. She'd laughed and kissed her and said she'd wear red forever if it made him look at her like that.

She'd kept that promise, in a way. Just not for him.

Dylan Kane—that's what he called himself—spun Victoria across the marble floor. He was tall and broad-shouldered. Everything about him screamed success: the custom Italian suit, the Patek Philippe watch that caught the light as he pulled Victoria closer, the confident way he commanded space in a room full of Manhattan's elite.

Victoria threw her head back and laughed at something Dylan whispered in her ear. Marcus couldn't remember the last time he'd made her laugh like that.

Three years? Four?

When had her laughter turned from joy to mockery?

"Pathetic, isn't he?"

Marcus didn't turn. He recognized Cameron Bradford's voice, his soon-to-be-former brother-in-law.

"Just standing there like a whipped dog," Cameron continued, loud enough for the nearby guests to hear. "I almost feel sorry for him. Almost."

Polite laughter rippled through the group surrounding Cameron. Marcus kept his eyes on the dance floor.

"Cameron, darling, leave the poor man alone." That was Melissa Hartwick, someone who'd never spoken directly to Marcus in five years. "It's not his fault he's... what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Inadequate?" Cameron offered.

"Precisely."

More laughter. 

Marcus's jaw tightened, but his expression remained neutral. 

The music shifted to something more romantic. Dylan moved Victoria low, and she clutched his shoulders, trusting him to hold her weight. When he pulled her back up, their faces were inches apart. 

And the entire ballroom seemed to hold its breath.

Then Dylan kissed her.

It wasn't a quick peck or a friendly gesture.

It was claiming. Possessive.

Victoria's arms wrapped around his neck, and for a long moment, they stayed locked together while two hundred guests watched and whispered.

The kiss ended. Applause erupted. Dylan pulled back with that perfect smile and raised Victoria's hand like a trophy. 

She was flushing, smiling, in a way Marcus hadn't seen her in years.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Richard Bradford's voice boomed across the hall. Victoria's father stood on the small stage where a jazz quartet had been playing, microphone in hand. 

"If I could have your attention, please!"

The crowd turned toward him. Marcus stayed where he was.

"Thank you all for coming tonight," Richard continued. "As you know, this is a celebration. A liberation, if you will." 

" My beautiful daughter Victoria has finally freed herself from a... unfortunate mistake."

Marcus watched Victoria's smile falter for just a fraction of a second. 

"We all make mistakes when we're young," Richard went on. "We're impulsive. We trust the wrong people. We let our hearts overrule our heads." 

His eyes found Marcus across the room, and his smile grew into laughter.

“But the wonderful thing about mistakes is that we can correct them. We can acknowledge our errors, learn from them, and move forward with the right people by our sides."

Richard gestured to Dylan, who climbed the stairs to join him on the stage. Victoria followed, her hand clasped in Dylan's.

"Dylan Kane is everything I could have hoped for in a son-in-law," Richard announced. "Successful, ambitious, from a good family. He treats my daughter the way she deserves to be treated. Like a queen."

The unspoken comparison hung in the air like smoke. Unlike the last one.

"So tonight, we celebrate not just the end of an unfortunate chapter, but the beginning of a bright new future!" Richard raised his glass. "To Victoria and Dylan!"

"To Victoria and Dylan!" the crowd echoed.

Marcus didn't raise a glass. He didn't even have one.

"Marcus Chen?"

He turned, only to see Victoria's lawyer, Gerald Fitzgerald, approaching him with a smile that never reached his eyes. He carried a leather folder under one arm.

"Mr. Fitzgerald," Marcus acknowledged.

"I hope you're enjoying the party." The lawyer's tone suggested he hoped no such thing. "I think it's time we concluded our business, don't you? No point in dragging this out."

Marcus said nothing.

Fitzgerald opened his folder and brought out a thick stack of papers. 

“The divorce settlement, as negotiated. Victoria Bradford keeps all marital assets including the apartment, the car, the joint accounts. You'll receive fifty thousand dollars as a... gesture of goodwill." 

The pause before the 'gesture of goodwill' was deliberate. They both knew fifty thousand was an insult considering the prenup Marcus had signed specified a minimum of two hundred thousand dollars after five years of marriage.

"The prenup—" Marcus began.

"Has a morality clause," Fitzgerald interrupted smoothly. "Which Victoria Bradford's legal team believes gives us grounds to significantly reduce the settlement based on your... conduct during the marriage."

Marcus's eyes narrowed. "My conduct?"

"Emotional unavailability. Failure to maintain employment. Financial irresponsibility." 

Fitzgerald rattled off the accusations like he was reading a grocery list. 

“Mrs. Bradford has been more than generous in offering you anything at all. I suggest you sign before she reconsiders."

It was a lie, of course. Marcus had worked at Bradford Industries for the entire marriage. He'd been given a fake position with a modest salary, but he'd shown up every day, endured their mockery, and done whatever meaningless tasks they assigned. 

He'd never been financially irresponsible because he'd never been given access to enough money to be irresponsible with.

But arguing was pointless. The Bradfords had lawyers, money and connections. He had nothing.

Or so they thought.

"Where do I sign?" Marcus asked.

Fitzgerald blinked, clearly surprised by his lack of resistance. "I... here. And here. And initial here." 

He brought out a pen. Marcus took the pen from him and began reading. He scanned each page carefully, his eyes moving across the legal jargon like someone who'd spent years studying contract law at Harvard.

"Is there a problem?" Fitzgerald asked after a minute.

"I'm reading what I'm signing," Marcus said mildly. "That's standard practice, isn't it?"

The party continued. But Marcus noticed people started to watch. Word was spreading that the divorce papers were being signed. This was the entertainment they'd really come for—the final humiliation of Marcus Chen.

Let them watch.

He found what he was looking for on page seven: a clause stating that by signing, he forfeited all rights to contest the divorce terms or seek additional compensation, and agreed never to contact Victoria or her family again under threat of legal action.

They wanted him erased. Silenced. Gone.

Marcus reached page twelve, the final page. He signed his name at the bottom :Marcus Chen. 

"Excellent," Fitzgerald said, snatching the folder and the pen from him. He'd probably expected Marcus to make a scene. 

"I'll have the finalized copies sent to your address. The money will be transferred within thirty business days."

"Of course," Marcus said. 

Fitzgerald closed the folder and disappeared into the crowd. 

Marcus remained by the pillar. Victoria saw Fitzgerald nod to her from across the room. 

Her smile brightened. Richard Bradford pumped his fist subtly in victory. Dylan Kane smirked and whispered something to Victoria that made her laugh again.

"Finally showing some sense, Chen?"

Cameron Bradford appeared in front of him, holding a glass of red wine in one hand.

"Cameron," Marcus acknowledged.

"God, you're even pathetic when you sign the papers," Cameron sneered. "No fight. No dignity. Just... nothing."

He gestured with his wine glass, sloshing liquid dangerously close to the rim. "You know what I never understood? How you convinced my sister to marry you in the first place. What did you do? Lie about being somebody important?"

Marcus said nothing.

"No answer? Typical." Cameron stepped closer,his breath reeking of alcohol and expensive appetizers. "Let me give you some advice, Marcus. Leave New York. There's nothing for you here. You're a nobody from nowhere, and everybody knows it now. Take your pathetic little payoff and disappear."

"Are you finished?" Marcus asked quietly.

Something in his tone made Cameron hesitate. For just a moment, some instincts seemed to whisper a warning. Then the alcohol reasserted control.

"Finished? I haven't even started." Cameron "accidentally" tipped his wine glass, splashing across Marcus's white shirt, his only good shirt, purchased from a discount store in Queens and carefully maintained for five years.

The crimson stain spread across his chest like blood.

The nearby conversations stopped and everyone turned to watch.

"Oops," Cameron said, not bothering to hide his smile. "How clumsy of me. You should probably go clean up, Chen. There's a bathroom in the servant's quarters. You remember where that is, right?"

Laughter rippled through the crowd. Marcus looked down at his ruined shirt. Then at Cameron. Then at the crowd of Manhattan's elite, all watching with varying degrees of amusement and schadenfreude.

"Thank you for the advice," Marcus said to Cameron."I'll keep it in mind."

He turned and walked toward the exit. He moved through the crowd quietly, ignoring the whispers that followed him.

"Did you see his face?"

"Five years of freeloading, and that's all he gets..."

"Victoria dodged a bullet, that's for sure..."

Marcus descended the steps of the Bradford mansion. 

He walked down the long driveway, passing the rows of expensive cars. When he reached the street, he stopped and tilted his face up to the rain. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Marcus pulled it out. Unknown number. A text message.

“Welcome home, Young Master. We've been waiting”.

Marcus stared at the message for a long moment, rain pouring on the screen of his phone.

He didn't reply to the message and didn't delete it either.

Instead, Marcus Chen slipped his phone back into his pocket and started walking into the rain. As he moved, his sleeve rode up slightly on his right wrist. 

Marcus pulled his sleeve down and kept walking, disappearing into the darkness.

But in the servant's entrance of the Bradford mansion, a man in a waiter's uniform watched him go. 

The man, Victor Yuan, pulled out his phone and typed a brief message to a secured number.

“The young master has received your message. It's time”.

The reply came instantly.

“Good. Prepare everything. My son is finally coming home”.

Victor put his phone back to his pocket and smiled for the first time in months. 

Inside the ballroom, Victoria Bradford stood beside her fiancé, accepting congratulations from a parade of well-wishers. But her eyes kept drifting to the main entrance where Marcus had disappeared.

Something in the way Marcus walked away majestically despite the wine stain on his shirt was giving her concern. 

"Victoria?" Dylan's voice pulled her attention back. 

"Everything okay?"

She smiled at him, pushing her thought away. "Perfect. Everything's perfect."

But as the party continued around her, Victoria couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just made the biggest mistake of her life.

She just didn't know why yet.