chapter 65
Elena's POV:
Vivienne's perfectly manicured hand flew to her mouth in an exaggerated display of shock, her eyes widening with theatrical dismay. "Oh God, I'm so sorry! I just assumed you'd already told everyone about your... situation."
I watched her performance with the detached fascination one might reserve for a particularly venomous snake behind glass.
The gasps and whispers around us swelled into a cacophony of speculation, as if they could divine the truth through sheer force of curiosity.
Madison stepped forward, her expression caught between excitement and protective concern. "Well, Elena only just arrived, so she hasn't had the chance to share her news yet."
She turned to me with a warm smile that seemed genuine enough. "Though she did mention to me that she's married now, which is just wonderful!"
The room erupted anew, theories and speculation bouncing off the walls like ricocheting bullets. Names were thrown around—old classmates, imagined suitors, even a few professors' names emerged in hushed, scandalous whispers.
I'd come here specifically to put Sebastian behind me, to avoid even speaking his name.
"So who's the lucky guy?" Jennifer, always the most direct of our group, leaned forward with undisguised curiosity. "Anyone we know?"
"No," I said quietly, forcing a small smile. "He's... just someone I met after graduation."
Vivienne's perfectly shaped eyebrows arched with interest, and I caught the precise moment her gaze sharpened, traveling from my simple cashmere dress to my modest jewelry—or rather, the lack thereof.
Her lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Oh, how... modest," she purred, her voice dripping with false concern. "I suppose not everyone's marriage works out as planned. Coming to a reunion without a single decent piece of jewelry? Times must be tough."
The barely concealed mockery in her tone was impossible to miss. Following her lead, our classmates' eyes began their own assessment, cataloging my understated appearance with newfound interest.
I caught the triumph glittering in Vivienne's eyes—she probably thought Sebastian had discarded me like yesterday's newspaper.
The very thought of him sent another wave of irritation through me—how was it that Sebastian managed to invade every corner of my life, even here where I'd come specifically to forget him?
My silence, however, was taken as confirmation. I could see it in the way shoulders relaxed around the table, in the knowing glances exchanged, in the subtle shift from curiosity to pity.
Vivienne had arrived dripping in designer labels and sporting jewelry that probably cost more than most people's cars. Next to her deliberate opulence, my simple elegance must have seemed almost shabby.
"Oh, Vivienne," Kelly chimed in, always eager to curry favor with those she perceived as successful. "You look absolutely stunning! Is that the new Cartier collection? And your dress—don't tell me, it has to be custom Dior!"
Vivienne preened under the attention, touching the elaborate necklace at her throat with practiced nonchalance.
"Yes, it's from their latest haute couture line. Lucas insisted—you know how he spoils me."
Kelly's eyes widened with perfectly timed amazement. "Lucas? As in Lucas Ashton? The Ashton family that owns half the luxury brands in Europe?"
"The very same," Vivienne confirmed with false modesty, clearly delighted by the recognition.
A collective murmur of appreciation rippled through our classmates.
"God, you're so lucky," Kelly sighed dramatically. "I would kill to have access to those collections before they even hit the stores."
Vivienne's vanity swelled visibly at the adulation. "Oh, just let me know if you ever need anything, darling. I have direct lines to all the boutiques."
"I should send you a few pieces too, Elena," she said, her voice honeyed with false concern. "You know, just in case things don't work out after you have children. Once your figure's ruined and you've lost that youthful glow, men do tend to wander. At least you'd have something valuable to sell when you're... discarded."
Kelly gasped in admiration. "Vivienne, you're too kind! Always thinking of others, even in such circumstances."
The table fell silent, everyone waiting for my response to such an obvious insult disguised as charity.
I kept my smile perfectly steady, meeting Vivienne's gaze with an innocence that made her jaw tighten. "Anything at all? How generous of you, Vivienne."
I tilted my head thoughtfully, tapping a finger against my chin. "In that case, I'd love a bottle from the Midnight Garden collection. I've heard it's even harder to get than Madame Flower—practically impossible, really."
The color drained from Vivienne's face so quickly, I almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Her fingers curled around her champagne flute, knuckles whitening as she processed my request.
My Midnight Garden had launched just a month after Madame Flower and promptly outsold it three to one. Not that surpassing my own work was particularly pride-worthy, but proving my abilities always left me feeling refreshingly vindicated.
The irony was almost too delicious. She'd spent years claiming credit for Madame Flower—my first venture into perfumery—parading it around as proof of her "artistic versatility."
Yet she could never surpass that stolen creation, and it had become the very thing that trapped her, a golden cage of her own making.
Kelly, bless her simple brain, completely missed the undercurrents rippling across the table. Seeing her patron's distress, she jabbed a manicured finger in my direction, her voice shrill with manufactured outrage.
"How dare you! You should be grateful for any offer at all! And everyone knows Midnight Garden is nothing but a cheap knockoff of Madame Flower!"