Chapter 7: The Dinner Party
1110 Words
For a brief moment, silence fell.
Vivian recovered first.
“Isabella.”
Her smile appeared instantly.
Polished.
Perfect.
False.
“You look beautiful. That dress is stunning.”
“Thank you.”
“Where did you find it?”
“A consignment shop in Brooklyn.”
Eleanor’s expression tightened almost imperceptibly.
Vivian’s smile remained flawless.
“How resourceful.”
Alexander appeared behind Isabella then.
His hand settled lightly against the small of her back.
The touch lasted only a second.
Yet it felt strangely possessive.
“Mother. Vivian.”
His voice was cool.
“You’re early.”
“We were eager to see the happy couple,” Eleanor replied smoothly.
She set down her champagne flute.
“Shall we?”
Dinner was served in the formal dining room.
Crystal glasses reflected the chandelier overhead.
Fine china gleamed beneath candlelight.
Everything looked immaculate.
Fragile.
Expensive.
The table was set for four.
Alexander sat at the head.
Eleanor at the opposite end.
Isabella and Vivian faced one another across the polished surface.
The arrangement felt intentional.
A battlefield disguised as etiquette.
The first course arrived.
A velvety asparagus soup.
Delicately plated.
Almost too beautiful to eat.
“So, Isabella,” Eleanor said after several minutes, “have you given any thought to the wedding?”
“Not yet.”
Isabella kept her voice calm.
“We’ve been getting to know one another.”
“How modern.”
Eleanor’s smile sharpened.
“Most couples prefer to accomplish that before becoming engaged.”
“Mother.”
The warning in Alexander’s voice was unmistakable.
“I’m merely making conversation.”
Eleanor turned to Vivian.
“Speaking of weddings, how is your mother? I haven’t seen her since the charity gala.”
“She’s well.”
Vivian smiled.
“She asked after you and hopes you’ll join her for lunch next week.”
“I’d love to.”
The conversation drifted toward names and events Isabella didn’t recognize.
People she’d never met.
Vacations she’d never taken.
A world she’d never belonged to.
She focused on her soup and let their voices blur together.
The second course arrived.
Sea bass.
Perfectly cooked.
Resting atop a bed of spring vegetables.
Vivian glanced across the table.
“Alexander mentioned you studied literature.”
“I did.”
“What are your plans now?”
“I worked for a publishing company before all this.”
“How wonderful.”
Vivian sipped her wine.
“Will you return to work after the wedding?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“She will.”
Alexander answered before Isabella could.
Every head turned toward him.
“Isabella isn’t the type to sit idle.”
Eleanor lifted a brow.
“Many women would consider that a luxury.”
“Many women aren’t Isabella.”
Silence followed.
A long, uncomfortable silence.
Isabella lowered her gaze to her plate.
Yet she could practically feel Vivian’s stare.
Sharp.
Searching.
Jealous.
Coffee was served in the living room afterward.
The atmosphere had become strained.
Even Eleanor seemed tired of pretending otherwise.
She cornered Alexander near the windows overlooking the city.
Their voices were low.
Not low enough.
“You’re being reckless,” Eleanor hissed.
“This engagement is absurd.”
“Isabella is carrying my child.”
Alexander’s tone remained calm.
“That’s not absurd.”
“If she’s pregnant.”
Eleanor folded her arms.
“Have you actually seen proof?”
“I trust her.”
“You trust a woman you’ve known for a month?”
“Longer than that.”
Something in his voice ended the discussion.
Eleanor fell silent.
Though her expression promised the argument was far from over.
Vivian appeared beside Isabella carrying two cups of coffee.
“One decaf.”
She offered a cup.
“For the baby.”
“Thank you.”
Vivian sat beside her.
For several moments, neither woman spoke.
Then Vivian sighed.
“He’s different with you.”
Isabella glanced sideways.
“How so?”
“I’ve never seen him defend anyone the way he defends you.”
“Maybe he’s protecting an investment.”
Vivian laughed softly.
“Is that honestly what you think you are?”
Isabella didn’t answer.
Instead, she studied the woman beside her.
The flawless appearance.
The practiced elegance.
The quiet heartbreak hidden beneath it all.
Years spent waiting for someone who never looked back.
“What do you want, Vivian?”
For the first time all evening, Vivian’s smile seemed genuine.
Small.
Sad.
“I want him to be happy.”
Her eyes drifted toward Alexander.
“Even if it isn’t with me.”
Not long afterward, the evening ended.
Eleanor kissed Alexander’s cheek.
Shook Isabella’s hand as though fulfilling a social obligation.
Then left.
Vivian followed.
The echo of her heels faded down the hallway.
The front door closed.
And silence settled over the penthouse once more.
“Are you all right?”
Alexander’s voice came from behind her.
“No.”
She turned.
“Not really.”
Something tightened in his expression.
“Talk to me.”
“Your mother hates me.”
A bitter laugh escaped her.
“Vivian wishes she were me. Or maybe she wishes I didn’t exist. And I’m standing in the middle of a life I never chose.”
Her voice wavered.
“I never chose this apartment. I never chose this engagement. I certainly never planned this pregnancy.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Alexander crossed the room.
Stopping directly in front of her.
“What do you need?”
The question caught her off guard.
What did she need?
Freedom.
Safety.
Stability.
Maybe even love.
She didn’t know anymore.
“I need to stop feeling trapped.”
“You’re not trapped.”
“Then let me leave.”
A long silence followed.
Finally, Alexander nodded.
“Tomorrow.”
Her eyes widened.
“Tomorrow?”
“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
“Anywhere?”
“Anywhere.”
She considered him for a moment.
Then smiled.
A small smile.
The first genuine one she’d given him all evening.
“The Met.”
“The Metropolitan Museum?”
“Yes.”
Alexander nodded once.
“Ten o’clock.”
“Okay.”
She turned toward the staircase.
Halfway up, she stopped.
“Alexander?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
For a second, neither moved.
Then she continued upstairs.
And behind her, she heard him exhale.
Slowly.
As though he had been holding his breath all night.
That night, Arianna visited her dreams again.
She stood in a field of wildflowers, wearing the same blue dress Isabella had worn to dinner.
“You’re falling for him,” Arianna said.
- Writer
