I waited for her to move along, but she took another small step closer.
“Tell me, are you here with someone?”
I considered the question for a moment.
“Yes.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Anyone I might know?”
“Possibly,” I answered.
Something cold flickered behind her smile.
“You’re being rather mysterious for someone nobody seems to recognize.”
I could have answered with a dozen explanations, but none seemed necessary.
I had never believed that a stranger was entitled to my personal information simply because she demanded it.
“I’m not trying to be mysterious,” I said.
Chloe gave a little laugh and looked toward the guests who were now openly observing our conversation.
“Well, that’s a relief, because people might start imagining you’re someone important.”
A businessman standing behind her shifted uncomfortably.
I saw Mara pause near the bar with her tray balanced against one hand.
The waitress looked concerned, but she was clearly afraid of interfering.
I kept my voice calm.
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being ordinary.”
Chloe’s smile tightened.
“That’s exactly what people say when they don’t have a choice.”
I felt the first unmistakable sting of anger, although I refused to let it control my expression.
There was something particularly ugly about someone mistaking another person’s dignity for an invitation to insult them.
“I hope you’re having a pleasant evening,” I said, turning slightly toward the skyline.
Instead of accepting the polite dismissal, Chloe moved directly into my line of sight.
“Oh, don’t be sensitive, sweetheart.”
“I’m not being sensitive.”
“Then why do you look so uncomfortable?”
I met her eyes.
“Because you’re trying very hard to embarrass me, and I don’t understand why.”
For a brief moment, her expression changed.
I had spoken quietly, but the honesty of the observation seemed to catch her off guard.
Then she laughed.
“Embarrass you?”
Several guests looked away.
“Please, I’m only trying to make conversation.”
I studied the perfectly controlled smile on her face and realized that she wasn’t interested in conversation at all.
She wanted an argument, a display of insecurity, or some desperate attempt to justify my presence at the party.
Any of those reactions would allow her to present herself as the superior woman.
Unfortunately for Chloe, I had spent too many years learning how to recognize cruelty disguised as confidence.
“Then perhaps we should both enjoy the rest of the evening,” I replied.
I could see that my refusal to argue infuriated her.
She glanced toward the VIP lounge, where Julian remained out of sight, before turning toward the gathering crowd.
It was as though she had suddenly decided that humiliating me would be an entertaining way to recover the attention she had lost.
She raised her crystal glass slightly.
“Everyone seems far too serious tonight,” she announced.
A few people laughed nervously.
I felt an uncomfortable sensation settle in my stomach.
Chloe moved closer until the sparkling silver fabric of her gown brushed against my arm.
“You know what I think?” she asked.
I remained silent.
“I think some people need a little reminder that invitations don’t automatically make everyone equal.”
My fingers tightened against the railing.
“Chloe, that’s enough,” a woman near the bar said quietly.
Chloe ignored her.
Her eyes dropped toward my vintage navy gown, and a slow smile spread across her face.
“Oh, that’s a sweet dress,” she remarked.
I looked down at the familiar fabric.
“Thank you.”
“Is it vintage?”
“Yes.”
“How adorable.”
Her tone made the compliment sound like an accusation.
She tilted her head.
“I suppose not everyone can afford something new for an occasion like this.”
A few guests exchanged uneasy glances.
I thought of my mother standing beside me years earlier, patiently fastening the small buttons at the back of the dress.
The fabric had survived birthdays, anniversaries, family dinners, and countless beautiful memories without ever losing its meaning.
For the first time that evening, I genuinely wanted Chloe to leave me alone.
“Excuse me,” I said, preparing to walk around her.
She moved directly into my path.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to enjoying my evening.”
“But we’re having such a lovely conversation.”
I looked directly into her eyes.
“Are we?”
That simple question seemed to strike something fragile beneath her confidence.
Her cheeks flushed, and her grip tightened around the crystal glass.
For a heartbeat, I thought she might throw an insult and walk away.
Instead, she looked toward the VIP lounge once more.
Ich folgte ihrem Blick und erkannte, dass sie auf Julians Rückkehr wartete.
Vielleicht stellte sie sich vor, er würde ihre Grausamkeit amüsant finden, oder vielleicht dachte sie, dass sie durch die öffentliche Demütigung einer anderen Frau irgendwie mächtiger erscheinen würde.
So oder so hatte sie sich die falsche Person und den denkbar ungünstigsten Zeitpunkt ausgesucht.
„Nur zu“, sagte Chloe plötzlich und hob ihr Glas höher.
Die Menschen um uns herum verstummten.
„Lasst uns allen etwas geben, an das sie sich erinnern können.“
Ich sah, wie sich ihr Handgelenk zu drehen begann.
Zuerst weigerte sich mein Verstand zu begreifen, was da vor sich ging, weil die Bewegung so bewusst und gleichzeitig so völlig unnötig war.
Dann sah ich, wie der dunkelrote Cocktail zum Glasrand glitt.
Mara stieß irgendwo hinter mir einen keuchenden Laut aus.
Ich machte instinktiv einen Schritt zurück, aber das Glasgeländer versperrte mir den Weg.
Einen schrecklichen Augenblick lang starrten Chloe und ich uns direkt an, und ich sah die unverkennbare Befriedigung in ihren Augen.
Dann neigte sie das Kristallglas und schüttete den gesamten Inhalt über die Vorderseite des marineblauen Kleides meiner Mutter.
