"How pathetic," Evelyn's voice came through.
Caius gave a small, confident smile. "I have my eyes on someone else." His gaze slid over her shoulder to where Lauren stood. "Rest assured, I won't be marrying out of the Remington family."
Her father chuckled, clapping Caius on the shoulder. "Smart man," he lead him away to join the other guests.
Heather stood frozen. The room felt like it was spinning around her. She overheard little of their conversation as they walked away.
"She's always been difficult," her father said.
"Not my problem anymore," Caius replied, his tone indifferent.
She watched them disappear into the crowd. Caius was really divorcing her. It somehow felt like a nightmare, one she couldn't wake up from. Everything just didn't feel right. Not to speak of the stare Lauren was giving her right now, she was just a few feet away, watching her with that smug expression again.
Trying to get her mind off everything, Heather raised a hand to a passing waiter. She needed a drink—anything to steady her nerves. The waiter hurried forward, and Heather flicked her purse open for a tip. Looking back up, the waiter suddenly tripped.
Wine glasses flew from his tray, shattering on the floor. Red liquid surged up Heather's white dress, soaking her from neck to hem. The room went silent.
Lauren rushed in, napkin in hand, all sweetness and false concern. "Oh, Heather, let me help you." She dabbed at the stain roughly.
"Stop," Heather snapped, pushing Lauren's hand away.
Soft murmurs started among the guests: "So ungrateful," "Lauren's only helping," "Here we go again."
Heather turned and fled up the staircase, her dress clinging to her skin.
In the ladies' room, she leaned against the door and stared into the mirror. A stranger stared back: dark circles under red-rimmed eyes, makeup smeared, a wine stain like a wound across her dress. She pressed a hand to her cheek.
"What has my life become?" she whispered. Her other hand drifted to her belly, where a small bump reminded her of the secret she would soon lose.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Her thoughts were interrupted by a furious banging on the door. The handle rattled violently.
"Someone's in here!" she called, voice harder than she felt.
The handle shook again. Heather swung the door open to find Lauren standing in the hallway.
"It's taken. Use another one," Heather said, edging past her.
Lauren followed, voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Wow, that wine really ruined your dress. For someone who wants to be me, you're making a terrible impression."
"Such a clumsy waiter. Who happened to only fall the moment you asked for a drink. Poor Heather," she had no atom of pity in her tone. "Although, I wonder what made him trip." She said smiling.
Heather rolled her eyes. She also didn't know why that waiter tripped... And Lauren's smile was creepy. Her fans must have taught her every line of pity performance.
Then a thought struck her—Lauren had been right there when the waiter stumbled. "Did you push him?" she asked quietly.
Lauren laughed. "Me? Never."
"You can drop the act," Heather said. "No one's listening."
Lauren leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Have you signed the divorce papers yet?"
Heather's heart sank. "How did you know about that?"
Lauren's smile went cruel. "How does it feel to lose everything you wanted so badly, so easily?"
Heather gritted her teeth. She knew Lauren was referring to the inheritance. She had held onto the grudge for years. Lauren was probably sad about it. But she didn't know why the anger was directed at her.
"It's not my fault you're the illegitimate daughter, Lauren," Heather said pitifully.
For a second, Lauren's eyes twitched. She pressed her lip into a thin line, her teeth biting down hard enough to draw blood. It was both satisfying and scary watching Lauren hurting her own lips, without Heather having to punch it. Her perfect composure finally cracked.
"Are you mocking me?"
Heather raised her hands up in surrender, "No. I would never."
Lauren didn't say anything, she just smiled.
Heather wanted to get away from Lauren; the last time she smiled like this, she put her head in a drum of water.
"I need to go downstairs, Lauren." Heather said, trying to slip past.
"Then pass."
Heather tried again, "I can't—" she struggled. " You're too fat."
Lauren scoffed. She grabbed Heather by the hair and yanked her head back, backing her into the wall. "How dare you talk to me like that? You stupid bitch!"
Heather winced, struggling beneath her grip. "Let go," she said through gritted teeth. "Please."
Lauren didn't stop. She leaned in closer, her breath hot and shaking, pulling Heather's hair more.
Something in Heather snapped. Maybe it was the pressure, maybe it was the years, maybe it was the baby. She raised both hands and shoved Lauren. Not hard, but enough to push her back a step.
It shocked her more than it did Lauren. The moment her palms left Lauren's shoulders, regret punched through her chest. She gasped, her hands covering her mouth in shock. "I didn't mean to—"
Lauren's eyes widened, wild with rage. "You bitch!" She screamed and shoved Heather back, harder.
Heather's back slammed into the wall with force. The pain moved up her spine and in her ribs. She caught the breathe the wind knocked out of her.
She could've shoved her back, she could've clawed. But instead, her hands dropped to her stomach, protective and instinctive.
Lauren's gaze followed her hands. Her eyes flickered down, then back up—colder and meaner.
"I wish you just die!" She bit her lips and came at Heather again.
"No—don't—"
Lauren already grabbed Heather's neck. Her hands pressed tightly on Heather's neck. The suffocation almost taking her life!
In an instant, Heather widened her eyes, her pupils trembling!
She lifted her arms, not to strike, but to shield herself. She didn't even know how to fight. Her hands flailed—just trying to push Lauren off.
Lauren screamed. Heather opened her eyes to see Lauren staggering back. She was shocked to see Lauren in this state. She didn't mean to cause this. She only wanted to block herself from Lauren, but her hands hit Lauren right in the eye.
Lauren let out a sharp, piercing scream. Her hands still on her face.
Heather stood frozen, eyes wide, mouth parted. "Lauren…?"
Lauren placed one hand against the hallway wall, and the other clutched her eye like it was on fire.
"I didn't mean to—Lauren, let me see," Heather said, stepping closer.
"Don't touch me!" Lauren shrieked, batting her hand away.
Heather's heart pounded. This wasn't what she wanted, not like this. Lauren was injured because of her. She turned quickly, heading for the stairs.
"I'll get help," she muttered, half to herself. Her hands still cupped her belly, the hit on the wall ached her back and she was afraid it might affect the baby.
She heard footsteps following her, but she didn't look back. She paused again, rubbing her belly as she reached the top of the staircase. Not until she felt a hard palm press against her back—
—then everything fell away.
"No...!" Heather screamed, but it was already too late.
Everything was blurred as Heather rolled down the stairs. Her whole body, including her stomach hitting the steps with sickening force. The guests started gasping and screaming, as she landed at the bottom, motionless.
She saw Caius running past her, straight to Lauren. She was clutching her face and sobbing dramatically. Heather closed her eyes.