Chapter 19: UNRULY CONFRONTATIONS (II)
HAYLEY
I laugh, despite myself.
“Aw, Dona bear. I have always known you to be foolish, but surely not foolish enough to think you can order me around.”
I level them with a hard stare. All of them
“In case you’re all suffering from memory loss, this is my matrimonial bedroom, and I am not moving an inch..."
I had originally intended to move out of the master bedroom, but there’s been a slight change of plans.
Edward will be moving out instead.
No one on God’s green earth can order me around, especially not the badly behaved members of the DaSilva family.
Thirty minutes later, I’m still trying to hang up my few clothes in the walk-in closet when the door opens once again.
I roll my eyes.
“Don’t tell me you’ve still got more things to say.”
“Of course I do.”
That voice.
I spin around and find myself staring at my self-acclaimed nemesis.
“Victoria.”
I fold my arms, not bothering to conceal my irritation. “You have two minutes to state your business before I call security.”
The arrogant curve of her perfectly painted blood-red lips tells me that I’m speaking to the real Victoria — the evil bitch, minus her little angelic mask.
“Care if I sit?” She doesn’t wait for my answer before parking her ass on my Dior Maison chaise lounge.
“I must say, you’re a slippery little target, Hayley.” She mutters, fingering my cashmere scarf. First thing tomorrow morning, I’m throwing it away.
“I thought I finally got rid of you, but here you are, showing up with your bags in tow.”
“Got rid of me?” I scoff. “I understand that you regard yourself as ambitious, Victoria, but make a little effort to separate dreams from reality every once in a while.”
She tries to speak but I raise a hand and she falls silent, eyes shooting sparks.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve to come in here in search of a private confrontation after everything you’ve done.”
I lean forward, my tone dripping ice;
“Need I remind you that I am still the legally recognized daughter-in-law of this house. My name is still on the marriage license. And Edward’s grandmother asked for me by name.
You will not be getting rid of me anytime soon, Vickie.”
Of course I don’t plan to stay here longer than a week, but she doesn't have to know that.
Victoria barges to her feet, her bottom lip trembling with rage.
“I have no idea how you managed to get grandma on your side, but watch your back, Hayley.
Edward is mine. This family is mine. And I will do anything… anything at all to make sure it remains that way!”
LATER THAT NIGHT
Tension drapes over the dining table as we all eat our food in silence.
Aunt Susan and Donatella wield tight frowns like a weapon.
Victoria, on the other hand, has a fake smile plastered on her face, trying so hard to engage a very uninterested grandma in conversation.
“How was your checkup today, grandma? What did the doctor say?”
“Nothing I haven’t heard before.” Grandma’s response is as dry as the piece of chicken currently lodged in my throat. “I’m old and I’m dying soon. End of story.”
“Mom!” Aunt Susan cries, “please don’t say things like that.”
Grandma simply shrugs. “It’s the truth.”
“You know what, grandma, I did my research this afternoon and found out that Astragalus helps to restore weak cells.” Victoria chirps, undeterred by grandma’s obvious disinterest.
“I prepared a special chicken broth with astragalus herbs just for you. I know you will love it.”
I watch as she eagerly gets to her feet and picks up a bowl to serve grandma the steaming soup.
“What a thoughtful person.” Aunt Susan praises, sneaking a dirty look my way.
“Yeah,” Donatella concurs, “Victoria is a gift to our family. Unlike some people.”
I hear the jab, but choose to ignore it. Instead, I watch silently as Victoria places the broth in front of grandma with a big smile on her face.
“Come on, grandma. Please try it.”
Releasing a sigh, I drop my spoon with a definite clang and lean back in my seat.
“Grandma is allergic to chicken.”
Silence falls over the table, thick and tense.
Everyone turns to me, their faces scrunched up in shock.
Finally, Aunt Susan scoffs.
“What nonsense are you talking about?”
“You heard me.” I respond, my tone sugary sweet. “Grandma is allergic to chicken.”
“How is that possible? Are you claiming to know my own mother better than I do? I have never heard her complain about chicken.”
“But have you ever seen her eat chicken?”
Aunt Susan rushes to respond but stops mid way, her mouth hanging open as realization dawns on her.
“Mom, are you allergic to chicken?”
Grandma rolls her eyes.
“Of course I am. I break out in hives if I eat the thing. Apparently, only Hayley cared enough to notice.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Victoria’s face is red with disappointment as she hurriedly tries to take the broth away. In her haste, she trips, sending the bowl sailing across the room like a damn frisbee.
Aunt Susan and Donatella half-rise from their chairs, their eyes and mouths wide with horror as they watch the bowl land on grandma’s custom made sofa with a loud thunk!
The broth splatters in all directions, soaking into the velvet sofa and dripping to the marble floors.
“My sofa! Just look at the mess you’ve made!” Grandma screams at Victoria who is currently trembling like she’s been electrocuted.
“I’m so sorry, grandma. I didn’t mean…”
“Oh, go sit down somewhere before you destroy any more of my precious property!”
Face lowered in humiliation, Victoria returns to her seat while the cleaning staff scramble to save the sofa.
I almost pity her. Almost.
“Take it easy on her, grandma.” Aunt Susan chides. “She was only trying to be helpful.”
“Well, I don’t need her help.” She turns to me. “Hayley, sweetheart, would you be a dear and serve me some of that sweet chili?”
By the time Edward arrives thirty minutes later, most of the chaos have died down.
I keep my eyes trained on my food, not bothering to look up as he takes the seat farthest from me, right beside Victoria.
“Hayley, won’t you serve your husband his food?” Aunt Susan asks, her voice laced with mockery.
I look up and my eyes collide with Edward’s instantly.
Heat coils in my guts as those fierce orbs burn into my skin, dancing with challenge
I know what they’re all thinking.
While I was still shackled to the daydream that Edward loved me, I couldn’t stand back and watch him touch a serving spoon. I made sure his food sat on his plate, ready to eat even before he sat down.
Not anymore.
I break our eye contact first, returning my attention to my food.
“Last I checked, my husband has two perfectly working hands. He can serve himself…”