Chapter 4 - The Gift Table
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Her triumphant smile faltered. Just slightly, but enough for me to notice.
Then, I turned purposefully toward the gift table.
The entire room followed my movements with its breath collectively held. On the table, arranged beautifully among silver-wrapped boxes and tall crystal vases, sat my wedding gift to Elodie and her new husband. It was wrapped in heavy cream paper, tied with a wide, elegant blue ribbon, and accompanied by a handwritten card from me.
Genevieve had been loudly bragging to her social circle for months about what I was supposedly gifting: the official deed transfer to a luxury, waterfront condominium in downtown Toronto. It was a highly valuable property that belonged exclusively to my side of the family, purchased long before I had even met Adrian.
She had smugly told relatives I was “finally learning to share the wealth.” She had told her country club friends the condo would help “stabilize the younger generation.”
What she absolutely had not known was that the beautiful cream box contained no deed. Not anymore.
Adrian moved fast when he suddenly realized where I was going. He caught my arm roughly near the gift table, his fingers digging in much harder than he likely meant to.
“Isla, stop,” he hissed urgently under his breath. “You cannot do this. Not here. Not at Elodie’s wedding. Please.”
I looked down at his hand gripping my arm until he nervously removed it.
“No, Adrian,” I said, my voice steady enough to surprise both of us. “You destroyed this long before I walked through those double doors.”
May you like
His face changed, desperation morphing into anger. “You’re overreacting.”
“That word,” I replied coldly, “has saved you far too many times.”
