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Lila Robinson stifled a yawn, the clinking champagne glasses and forced cheer doing little to mask the hollowness she felt inside. She sat at a round table adorned with crisp white linens. Her father-in-law’s victory speech droned on, his words blurring with the hum of the crowd. She glanced at her husband, James, across the table, engaged in animated discussion with his business associates. The celebration was in full swing but Lila felt detached, her mind wandering to the bitter reality of her marriage.
Across the table, Rachel, her husband’s mistress sat perched like a peacock. The woman had single-handedly turned Lila’s life into a living nightmare. She and James had been stealing glances at each other throughout the ceremony. Their poorly disguised performance was a public display meant to wound Lila. She absentmindedly stirred her drink, wishing she could leave but social decorum demanded her presence. She was trapped, forced to put on a smiling face for the sake of appearances.
A familiar figure approached her side. Rachel. With a smile that was all teeth and no warmth, Rachel slid into the seat next to Lila.
“Mind if I join you?” Rachel purred, though it was clear she did not expect Lila to object.
Lila tensed, her grip tightening around the glass she held. “Of course,” she replied, forcing a smile.
Rachel looked around before leaning closer. “Such a lovely event, isn’t it? James really does know how to celebrate a win. He takes after his father, I guess.”
Lila nodded, her stomach churning. She had known about Rachel for over a year now. James had assured her it was just a fling, something meaningless, yet Rachel’s presence at these events said otherwise. She had tried to confront James again, but his dismissals had left her resigned and defeated.
As the waiter approached, offering a tray of wine and cocktails, Rachel declined by waving her hand, her smile laced with triumph. It sent an unpleasant jolt through Lila. “None for me, thanks. I’m afraid I can’t indulge today,” she said, patting her flat stomach. The gesture was subtle but the implication was clear. Lila’s eyes widened in shock and horror.
Rachel leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m pregnant, Lila. James and I are going to have a baby.”
Years of denial shattered in that moment. Lila knew about James’ infidelity. She had chosen to turn a blind eye to it, just to maintain a sense of normalcy. But the room seemed to spin around Lila as the words sank in. Pregnant. The word echoed in her mind, a cruel reminder of her own failed attempts to conceive, and now, this ultimate act of treachery by her husband. She fought to keep her composure, her mind racing. She couldn’t break down her, not in front of Rachel. Not in front of all these people.
She stood suddenly, her chair scraping across the floor. “Let’s talk. In private,” she said. Her voice was steady but tight from the storm raging inside of her.
Rachel’s smile widened, full of malice as she complied, following Lila out of the grand hall and into a quitter corner of the house. Lila led her to a secluded spot near the staircase where they were less likely to be overheard.
“You’re the picture of calm,” Rachel said as they stopped. “But I can see it in your eyes. You’re dying inside, aren’t you?”
Lila’s fists clenched at her sides. “Congratulations, Rachel,” she said, the words laced with ice. “Seems like your little charade finally worked.”
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