She paced the length of her room. Edward wasn't back.
Her feet dragged along the marble floors. She had been in this state ever since she left Adrian in the afternoon.
She bite her nail, the edge of her tooth digging in as she fought the urge to run. She was going to lose her nerve before he came back.
She paused, her eyes trained on the document that now graced her bed. She sighed.
A knock. "Miss, dinner starts by seven." Mrs puff voice came through the door."Would you like help dressing, miss?"
Gabrielle looked at her ragged suitcase. It sat in the corner like a ghost from her past.
"No, thank you." she responded.
For the next few minutes, she dug through the worn, tattered suitcase, looking for something. Anything.
Her frame hung over— flinging what little clothes she had in search of what to wear. Her stomach dropped as she peered down into what remained— a jean and a basic top.
She was screwed. She reached out and picked them up.
This will have to do. Her jaw squared with resilience, as if brazing herself for the dinner's warfare. Her head dropped low. She stayed like that for God knows how long.
Eventually, she dressed up. She now stood in front of the vanity mirror— she was doing this a lot lately.
Just staring , judging, condemning herself. Her palms ran over the jeans, shaky.
She turned with deliberate slowness assessing the fit as if to reassure herself this was…. nice.
Damn. Who was she deceiving? Her shoulders drooped as she grabbed her purse and headed out for dinner.
The hallway felt mile long as she dragged her flats against the floors, her purse tucked tight under her arm.
Please don't let his mother be there? she prayed as she rubbed her sweating palms across the sides of the jeans.
The door to the Harrington's grand dining room was open. She could hear chatter. Her steps slowed, as she strained her ears. Who was there? She could hear Adrian's charismatic laughter, a small smile formed on her lips. He was always in a goofy mood.
Then she heard it— Edward's mother and the pretty lady, she now came to know was Edward's girlfriend. Her chest tightened as they conversed.
She took in a deep breath and stepped inside.
Her back straight, and her jaw clenched— preparing herself, for Edward's viper of a mother. And the woman didn't disappoint; her face twisted in sardonic irritation. It was the kind of look you gave scum from the streets.
Gabrielle pulled the chair forward in one smooth motion, the scraping sounds it made tearing into her bones.
She sat down.
Her eyes met Adrian, who was seated opposite her. His brows furrowed in a silent apology.
He didn't need to apologize; He wasn't his mother.
Her arms crossed on the table as she searched the room for her daughter. She wasn't always with her anymore.
Her shoulders slumped; she carried her grief like a hidden cloak.
This house, this people,They threatened to turn her world upside down. To break her.
Lost in thought, she failed to acknowledge the other woman. She was unaware of the dark, hateful stare that had found her.
"I see you also lack manners," Edward's mother spat. Her spite echoed through her words. "the same way you lack style"
Adrian tensed, anger flashed across his face. "Mother" his voice was loud, stunning the whole room un silence
Even the staff, stopped, Shocked, as though sowething unimaginable had occurred.
His mother eyes widened, her chest heaving rhythmically. "You do not talk to your mother like that" she shouted, she disciplined him like he was just a boy.
This was getting too much. Where was Emilia? Her head scanning the room, as if her daughter would suddenly materialize if she looked hard enough. the heels of her feet tapped the floor, uneasy.
Their voice muffled together like background noise, as her throat went dry, threatening to close.
Sweat dripped down her neck despite the air conditioning.
They were still fighting. With unsteady feet, she stood up. The room spun, the crystal light blurred, and she staggered forward.
And the last thing she heard before it all went dark was Adrian's voice— her name reverberated from his lips.
*******
The smell of cologne flooded her sinuses reaching her in her blissful slumber, as her eyes fluttered open.
Edward's chiselled face was the first thing that graced her sight. She jerked back as if stung, realizing at that moment his fingers had been laced between hers.
What the hell? Her brain struggled to catch up.
She scanned the room— what happened? How did she get here?
As if reading the questions her mind sang."You fainted." he said, in a simple tone.
"I see you haven't signed the documents."he commented flatly, raising the document in his other hand.
Her mouth hung open. This was too soon, she wasn't ready.