“Vanessa,” I said, keeping my voice low, desperately trying to de-escalate the situation. I placed a hand on the table to steady myself. “I’ve been on my feet for the last four hours during the ceremony and the photos. My doctor specifically told me my blood pressure is dangerously high. I need to sit down for a few minutes.”
“Oh, please,” Vanessa laughed sharply, a harsh, grating sound that held absolutely no humor. She cut me off completely. “I’ve been on my feet since six o’clock this morning, and I’m in four-inch heels! This is my wedding day, Elena. It is not your personal excuse to be lazy and antisocial.”
Before I could even process the sheer, breathtaking audacity of a woman comparing wearing designer heels to a high-risk pregnancy, a shadow fell over the table.
Marlene appeared beside her daughter, materializing like a specter of misery. Her lips were pursed in deep disapproval, her eyes raking over my swollen stomach with open, unabashed disgust.
“Vanessa is absolutely right,” Marlene sneered, her voice dripping with venomous condescension. She looked at me as if I were a stain on the hotel carpet. “Pregnancy is not an illness, Elena. Millions of women have babies every single day without turning it into a dramatic production. Stop pretending to be weak just to get out of helping.”
The air in our corner of the room grew incredibly thick and suffocating. People were openly staring now. I saw a few older women at the next table exchange horrified glances, but no one—absolutely no one—stepped in to stop the bride or the matriarch. They were untouchable in their own kingdom.
I gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles turning white. A wave of dizziness washed over me, the stress spiking my already dangerously high blood pressure. I forced myself to take a slow, jagged breath.
“I am not pretending, Marlene,” I said, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “I am physically exhausted. I am here to celebrate Caleb’s sister. That is all.”
Vanessa folded her arms across the intricate lace bodice of her gown. Her eyes gleamed with a dark, triumphant, ugly light. She had me cornered, and she was going to exert her dominance in front of the crowd.
