the first impression
1069 Words
Chapter Three: The First Impression
Bella sat in the hospital’s small waiting area, her eyes glued to her mother’s unconscious form through the glass wall. The antiseptic scent of the place stung her nose, and the rhythmic beeping of machines was the only sound breaking the suffocating silence.
Her phone buzzed, pulling her out of her thoughts. It was a text from Alexander:
“Be ready by 6 PM. Family dinner. Don’t be late.”
She frowned, rereading the message. A family dinner? She hadn’t signed up for this. Bella immediately called him.
“You didn’t mention anything about meeting your family,” she said as soon as he picked up.
“I didn’t think I needed to,” Alex replied curtly. “You agreed to this arrangement, Bella. It’s not up for debate.”
Bella’s voice rose. “Look, I agreed to marry you on paper, not to become your social puppet! I don’t want to get involved with your family.”
Alex’s tone turned icy. “It’s not about what you want. This is about keeping appearances. Be ready.”
The line went dead before she could argue further. Bella clenched her fists, frustration bubbling inside her. She glanced back at her mother’s still figure, guilt weighing heavy on her chest. She didn’t want to leave her, but if she didn’t play along, Alex could end the arrangement—and with it, her only hope of paying for the surgery.
---
At exactly 5:45 PM, Bella stepped outside the hospital to find a sleek black car waiting for her. A driver stepped out and handed her a garment bag without a word.
Matilda, her mother’s neighbor, happened to be passing by. Her brows shot up as she saw Bella accepting the dress.
“Bella,” Matilda said, her voice laced with disapproval. “You’re going out? Your mother is still unconscious, and you’re thinking about...this?”
Bella didn’t respond immediately. She looked down at the dress bag, then back at Matilda. “I don’t have a choice,” she murmured before slipping back inside to change.
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When Bella arrived at the Wood Mansion later that evening, she felt completely out of place. The dress Alex had sent was stunning—a floor-length emerald gown that fit her perfectly—but she couldn’t shake the feeling of being an imposter.
The dining room was grand, just as she’d expected. A crystal chandelier hung above the massive table, which was already set with fine china and silverware. Alex stood near the head of the table, his expression as unreadable as ever.
“You’re late,” he remarked as she approached.
“I didn’t ask for this,” she shot back in a low voice, trying to keep her frustration in check.
“Keep your attitude in check,” he said smoothly. “Remember, you’re supposed to be my girlfriend.”
Bella forced a tight smile, but inside, she was seething.
The other members of the Wood family began to file in. She recognized some of them from the research she’d done after agreeing to the arrangement. There was Mason, Alex’s uncle, who had a sharp, calculating look. His wife Clara sat beside him, her eyes scanning Bella with thinly veiled judgment. Their son, Maurice, was absent, which Bella found herself silently thankful for.
Dinner was served shortly after, and Bella stiffened when a plate of grilled shrimp was placed in front of her. She was severely allergic to shellfish.
She glanced at Alex, who was engaged in conversation with his grandfather. Should she tell him? No, she decided. Drawing attention to herself would only make things worse. She picked up her fork and hesitated.
Her stomach churned as she forced herself to eat a bite. The taste was enough to make her queasy, but she kept going, hoping no one would notice her discomfort.
Minutes felt like hours, and Bella’s body began to protest. Her throat felt tight, and nausea rolled through her stomach. She excused herself quietly, hoping to make it to the restroom in time.
As she hurried down the hallway, her vision blurred slightly. She was so focused on finding the restroom that she didn’t notice the man walking toward her until it was too late.
She collided with him, stumbling back slightly. Before she could apologize, her stomach twisted violently, and she vomited—right onto his shirt.
Bella’s face burned with embarrassment as she looked up at the man she’d just humiliated. He was tall, with sharp features and a cold, assessing gaze.
“Are you kidding me?” he said, his voice dripping with disdain.
Bella struggled to speak, her throat burning. “I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”
“Enough,” he snapped, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and trying to clean himself off.
The commotion had drawn attention. Alex appeared moments later, his expression darkening when he saw the scene.
“What happened?” he demanded, his eyes darting between Bella and the man.
“She happened,” the man replied, gesturing to his ruined shirt.
Alex’s jaw tightened. “Bella, go clean yourself up.”
Bella nodded, her cheeks flaming as she hurried away.
---
When she returned to the dining room, the atmosphere was tense. Alex’s cousin, the man she’d vomited on, was seated with a fresh shirt, glaring at her across the table.
“Bella,” Alex said, his tone clipped. “This is my cousin, Ethan.”
Bella forced a weak smile. “Nice to meet you.”
Ethan didn’t reply, his glare unwavering. Bella sank into her seat, wishing she could disappear.
The rest of the dinner was a blur. Alex stayed silent, his expression unreadable. Bella kept her head down, trying to ignore the judgmental stares of the other family members.
As the evening finally drew to a close, Alex escorted her to the car waiting outside.
“You didn’t mention you were allergic to shellfish,” he said as they climbed in.
Bella looked at him, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “I didn’t think I needed to. You didn’t exactly give me a chance to prepare for this.”
Alex’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Next time, speak up.”
Bella didn’t reply. She stared out the window, her mind racing. This was only the beginning, and she already felt like she was drowning.
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- Writer
