As soon as the clock strikes 5:00 PM, I feel a sense of urgency wash over me. The dinner is at 6:00 PM, and I still haven't even fully prepared.
I glance at the mirror, feeling the slight sting from the burn on my arm, but today is not about me. It's about being presentable. My family expects it, and so does Rafael's.
I step into my closet, surveying my dresses. There's a part of me that still feels like I'm in control of my own life, and I'm going to keep pretending it for as long as I can. Rafael Montgomery doesn't have the right to tell me how to dress or what to do.
I choose a deep green silk dress, a perfect balance between elegance and sophistication. It hugs my body perfectly and ends just above my knee. Simple but refined.
I add burgundy heels and a delicate necklace, making sure I look the part. My hair is styled in soft waves, nothing too fancy, but enough to give me that polished look.
When I head downstairs, I see Rafael's parents already in the living room, talking. I step into the hallway, and I hear Rosé voice, welcoming me from across the room.
"Amanda! You look absolutely stunning tonight." Rosé smiles warmly, her eyes taking in my appearance with approval.
She's always the type of woman who looks like she belongs in a magazine, elegant, poised, and always on top of things. Unlike me.
I try to smile back, but it feels forced. "Thank you, Rosé. "
Victor, her husband, nods in agreement. "You're quite the vision tonight, Amanda. That dress really suits you."
I nod politely, but my mind is elsewhere, still trying to wrap itself around the idea that I'm living under someone else's roof. Living under his roof. Rafael Montgomery, the guy who has made my life here a living hell.
Rafael walks into the room, his presence as imposing as ever. He doesn't even look at me, instead, turning his attention to his parents.
"I'll be leaving in a bit, Mom. Make sure Amanda gets to the dinner on time." His voice is as cold as ice, but I can feel the underlying resentment in his words. Not directed at me—yet.
Rosé glances at me with a smile before turning back to Rafael.
"Of course, Rafael. We'll be heading out shortly." She gestures toward the door. "Amanda, are you ready to go?"
"Yes," I answer before I realize I sound a bit too eager.
My heart is thumping, and it has nothing to do with the dress. The dinner. The need to prove myself. The constant pressure to live up to their expectations.
As I step outside, I find that Rafael is already in the car. He doesn't make any move to acknowledge me, so I take a seat next to his parents instead. I know I could sit next to him, but the idea of being that close to him is unbearable. The tension between us is already too thick, and I don't feel like enduring it tonight.
"I think it's better if I ride with you, if that's okay." I say to Rosé as she offers me a place beside her.
She smiles warmly at me, clearly pleased. "Of course, Amanda. You're more than welcome to."
We drive to the venue in relative silence. Rosé and Victor talk amongst themselves, but I can't focus on their words.
My thoughts are a jumbled mess of what's to come, the dinner, the people, and most importantly, Rafael. How am I supposed to survive the evening without completely breaking down?
As the car pulls up to the venue, I'm in awe of the stunning garden setting. The soft glow of fairy lights is reflected in the crystal-clear water fountains. The tables are set up perfectly, each one adorned with white linens and sparkling silverware. It's beautiful in a way that feels unnerving. The elegance of it all feels so distant from the chaos that is my life.
We walk into the garden, and I spot my parents chatting with a few of their friends. I offer them a brief smile before walking up to join them.
"Amanda!" My mother turns to me with a warm smile, enveloping me in a hug. She looks radiant tonight, like she always does. "How are you, sweetheart?"
"I'm not fine, Mom." I said. I've been pretending to be fine for too long.
"Just... adjusting." I swallow hard, keeping my voice steady.
My father pats my back. "You'll get the hang of it soon. Don't stress." He's trying to reassure me, but his words feel empty. He doesn't get it.
After a few moments of conversation, I catch Rafael's eyes from across the room. He's talking to someone I don't recognize, a tall, dark-haired man with a glass of wine in his hand.
His eyes meet mine for a brief second, and for just a moment, I feel a flicker of something between us, anger, resentment, desire? I can't quite place it, but I immediately look away, focusing on the conversation with my parents.
As we sit down at the long dinner table, the questions start coming.
"So, Amanda, how's your medical school going?" One of Victor's friends, a woman named Marilyn, asks me.
She's always been kind, but there's something about her that feels too perfect. Her smile is too rehearsed, like she's been practicing for this very moment.
"It's... tough, but manageable." I say, trying to sound confident, but inside, I'm crumbling. The pressure of pursuing a medical degree with parents that are both doctors.
Someone else asks, "And what about you, Rafael? How's law school? I hear you've been killing it."
Rafael smirks, his usual calm self. "It's busy, but I'm managing." His response is short, and I can feel a little knot of irritation forming in my stomach.
The conversation shifts to more superficial topics, like how everyone is handling business and keeping up with family life. It's easy for them, too easy. Their worlds are perfect, and here I am, stuck in the middle, trying to pretend like I belong.
Then, Rachel, one of the daughters of their family friends, saunters over to Rafael, her eyes twinkling as she brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. She leans in just a bit too close.
"Rafael, it's so good to see you again. How's everything going in law school?" she purrs, her voice sugary sweet.
I watch the exchange with narrowed eyes. Is she flirting with him?
Rafael smiles politely, but I can see that he's not interested. "It's going well. Thank you, Rachel."
He don't even smile at me, or even was polite! My stomach churns.
I stand abruptly, excusing myself from the table. "I'm going home. I'm tired."
Everyone stares at me, but I don't care. I'm done pretending.
I hear the sound of footsteps following me. Of course, it's Rafael. His presence is heavy, and I can feel it behind me, even without turning around.
"What do you want, Rafael?" I snap, but he's calm, almost unfazed.
"I'm going home too. I'm tired." His voice is low, but his words are cutting.
I roll my eyes, too exhausted to argue. We walk to the parking lot, and when I get there, there's no driver in sight. I'm left standing in the cold, irritated and frustrated.
"Need a ride?" Rafael's voice is as calm as ever, but I can feel the mocking tone in his words.
I don't have a choice. I can't wait for a driver.
"Fine. I'll take your ride." I finally admit, but it's clear that I'm not happy about it.
We get in the car in silence, the tension thick between us. Neither of us says a word until we reach the mansion. But by then, the night feels like it's been going on for hours, and I'm just ready to escape from it all.