At the entrance of the hall, Gabrielle took a deep breath and stepped in.
Breathless and in awe, her mouth parted in shock. The walls are a soft blue and gold highlights, with the beautiful centerpiece hanging over them, shining with beautiful crystal lights.
She swirled, taking it all in. The women dress in immaculate gowns, the men in their suits, sharp and important.
As she walked further in, her breathing slowed, as she noticed a pair of eyes followed her, judging, belittling her very being.
Muffled laughter found her ears as she passed by.
"What is she wearing?" she heard someone say, and chuckles from surrounding people followed.
Her head pounded as humiliation hit, her face red as more insulting comments met her ears.
Was the dress that bad?
Wide-eyed, she looked around, her shoulders curling inward.
Maybe if she just— she tried on a smile and waved at a couple. They scoffed, moving away from her, wine in hand, treating her as one would treat dirt.
Her heart sank, her hand trailed slowly up, rolling a lock of her hair. She paused, standing completely still as if that could erase her very existence.
She felt cold glass as the waiter placed a drink in her hands. Startled. She stared at the cup currently nestled between her fingers, her mind numb as she held on to it.
"Mummyyy," it sounded very distant, finding her in her mind's quiet place.
Emilia ran, arms wide, hugging her.
"Mummy… Mummy was very excited, as she bounced around. This snapped her right out of whatever trance she was in.
Her head snapped up, and the room seemed quiet, realizing that every gaze rested on them, shivers flowing down her back. Pulling her daughter closer, shielding her from their scrutiny.
Then her eyes slipped down, Emilia's dress— a flowery pink, embroidered with tiny white flowers— fitted her daughter's tiny frame beautifully.
She pulled back for a better view. "Who gave you this dress, Emilia?" brows raised, confused.
"Mr Edward gave me," she swirled."It's a pink mummy. I am a princess," Emilia's voice filled with joy.
Gabrielle scanned the room, eyes finding Edward. He looked her way almost instantly, meeting the question in her eyes with a simple, cold stare. A challenge perhaps?
The woman from earlier tugged at his arm, breaking their locked gaze. She stared at them, noticed the way he smiled at something she said— jealousy stirred, gnawing at her chest.
A light tap landed on her shoulders, pulling her back to the present. She finally turned, and it was an older woman, maybe in her sixties. Dressed elegantly, her black dress- hugging her soft womanly curves— had a slit which stopped mid thigh, showing her toned legs.
Pearls adorned her neck and ears. She seemed to have aged like fine wine. Her mind flicked to her mother, the same age but bedridden. She sighed.
Shaking off the thoughts that clammed her mind. She flashed the woman a smile. It wasn't returned.
The woman's gaze lingered as if trying to assess what Gabrielle was. Then she finally spoke.
"Are you the child's mother or caregiver?" she asked, her voice bland.
Gabrielle paused for a moment. Then replied, " Yes… I am her mother," her brows knitting in confusion.
"Hmm," was the woman's only response before walking away.
Her anger boiled hot. How can someone be so rude?
Still very shaken up by that interaction, Emilia pulled lightly on her gown." See, Mr Edward, can I go say hi, pleaseeee?" pouting her lips and giving her best puppy eyes.
Gabrielle forced a smile. Her fingers tousled Emilia's hair. "You can go."
As she watched Emilia run to Edward, she noticed he was with the beautiful miss.
Her heart tightened watching her daughter, Edward, and the woman interact. They looked like a real family.
That broke her.
Her daughter blended right in; she was definitely happy for a little girl. But sh-she didn't.
She and her green dress didn't belong.
And Edward's softness towards other women was just what pushed her over the edge. Tears brimming, as sobs threatened to consume her.
A man slid from Edward's back, walked right to her, and his hands planted on her shoulders.
"Miss" was the only word he uttered as he steered her out of the hall— a hall filled with eyes that seemed to dislike her before they even knew her.
She allowed herself to be led, too weak to protest.
"Miss, here, a handkerchief," He said softly, eyes filled with worry and kindness.
She didn't know how long she had cried for, head crouched, shoulder slumped.
He simply stood there, letting her worries fill this small white handkerchief.
When her tears slowed, she looked up at the man who had saved her from further humiliation.
Her eyes widened in recognition. She knew this man.
Blinking rapidly. This was Edward's driver. "Robert," She uttered.
He smiled."Miss, are you better now?" His fingers brushed at her tears, Gentle against her cheek, lingering on her skin—sent ripples down her spine.
Her gaze locked on his, saying nothing.
Then something flickered in his eyes, so intense she turned around.
Standing there, jaw clenched, eyes— cold and dark —was Edward.