Chapter 5
Charles's words sounded casual, but they wiped out any hope I had left for a real conversation.
I looked at him, trying to keep my voice steady, and asked, "Then why didn't you let her sit in the spare chair instead?"
He paused.
"It's her first time at an event like this. She's already nervous. If I made her sit away from the group, she'd feel more uncomfortable," Charles explained.
"And what about me?" I asked.
Charles's eyes flashed with irritation.
"This is your home, and your family's all here. You are with your parents and relatives. Do you have to make this a competition with her?" he said.
I fell silent.
Charles seemed to think he'd made himself clear and took a step closer.
He added, "Sophie, I know you're upset about her. But there's nothing between Emily and me, not the way you think.
"She's only a younger schoolmate. We have the same advisor. Honestly, she's almost like a little sister to me."
I gazed at him.
"Would a little sister wear the shawl my mom prepared for me?" I questioned.
Charles was taken aback.
Through the glass, I saw Emily sitting right next to Mom in the dining room.
She had a pearl-white cashmere shawl draped over her shoulders.
That was the shawl Mom had picked out for me.
The hotel's AC was freezing, and Mom was worried I'd get cold in my dress, so she brought it from home. She'd asked me earlier if I was chilly.
I told her I was fine.
But somehow, that shawl ended up on Emily's shoulders.
Emily kept her head down, looked like she was quietly talking to Mom.
Mom looked distant, holding her water glass and not responding.
Charles's tone softened as he followed my gaze. "She might've been cold, so Mrs. Winters draped the shawl over her shoulders. So what?"
"Do you think it's nothing?" I asked.
"It's not a big deal," he replied.
Then he added, "Sophie, you've had everything handed to you since you were a kid. Your parents adore you, your relatives dote on you, and your family's loaded.
"Emily's not like you. She's all alone, with no one in her corner."
I snapped, "And what exactly does that have to do with me?"
Charles said, "Can you stop treating her like she's out to get you?"
He took a deep breath.
"You've already got more than enough. Giving up a little for her isn't going to hurt you," he said.
Laughter and chatter drifted out from the dining room through the glass door.
I saw Dad sitting at the head table, his head down as he texted, and he still looked stern.
Mom glanced over at the terrace every now and then, worry in her eyes, but she didn't come over.
She was letting me save my dignity.
The guy I'd wanted to bring home was in front of me, telling me to give up my own place.
I asked Charles, "Haven't I already given up enough for her?"
His expression froze.
He frowned, "What are you trying to say?"
"When Emily first joined your company, I was the one who negotiated for the project manager position, but you ended up giving it to her," I said.
"She was the right fit for the job," Charles replied.
"When she had trouble with her apartment, you stood me up, and I had to go see my parents all by myself," I continued.
"It was urgent, so I had to deal with it right then," he said.
"When she was feeling down, you spent the whole night with her. But when I had a fever and went to the hospital, you didn't reply to me until the next day," I said.
"Didn't you say it wasn't anything serious?" he shot back.
I nodded in response.
"So you do remember," I remarked.
Charles finally seemed to realize something, and his tone softened a bit.
"Sophie, tonight's important. Can we stop digging up the past?" he demanded.
"Tonight's about my dad," I said. "Not Emily."
Charles looked at me, his eyes full of annoyance again.
"I don't get it. Why are you so hung up on making life hard for a girl who's lost her parents?" Charles said.
Suddenly, a chill hit me.
It wasn't the wind out on the terrace.
It was the kind of cold that seeped out from my heart, spreading everywhere.
"Charles Bennett," I called him by his full name.
He froze for a second.
I'd called him by his full name when I was angry before, but he'd always manage to coax me back.
But this time, when I heard myself say it, the name felt almost foreign to me.
"So tell me. Did you bring her here because you want my family to accept you, or is this about getting them to accept her?" I pressed.
Charles's face darkened.
"Did you have to say it like that?" he snapped.
I didn't say anything else.
When I stayed silent, his tone got sharper. "Fine. If you think she took your seat, I'll get her to apologize to you," he said.
"That's unnecessary," I refused.
"Sophie," he called.
"I said it's unnecessary," I repeated.
I pushed open the terrace door and walked back into the dining room.
Charles followed behind me, his voice low. "Don't go giving everyone the cold shoulder again. It's your dad's birthday."
I stopped and turned to look at him.
I snorted, "So you do remember it's my dad's birthday, huh?"
His expression darkened.
I didn't wait for Charles to respond, heading straight for the main table.
As soon as I sat down, Mom looked over at me.
"Are you cold?" she asked.
I shook my head in response.
She glanced at the shawl on Emily's shoulders, but without saying a word, she took off her own coat and laid it across my lap.
"Keep it on for now," said Mom.
At that moment, I felt my eyes sting.
It wasn't because of Charles.
It was because Mom had seen everything, yet she protected me in the most discreet, considerate way possible.
Emily seemed to notice what was going on over here.
She nervously touched the shawl on her shoulders and hurriedly got to her feet.
"Mrs. Winters, this should go back to Sophie. I didn't realize it was hers," she muttered.
Mom said in a flat tone, "Keep it on."
Emily's hands froze in midair.
She probably hadn't expected Mom to be so distant, unlike the other relatives who had comforted her earlier.
Charles sat down and jumped in to smooth things over. "Mrs. Winters, Emily's a bit frail. She'll give it back once she's warmed up."
Mom glanced at him, replying with a grunt.
It was the same response.
She stayed polite and distant, offering nothing else.
Emily's eyes welled up with tears again.
She lowered her head and took a sip of soup, looking as if she was holding back tears from feeling so hurt.
As the birthday party was winding down, the photographer came over to remind us it was time for the family photo.
"Mr. Winters, let's start with the main table, then get the whole family and friends together," the photographer instructed.
Dad nodded in response and told everyone to head over to the stage.
I helped Mom to her feet.
Emily got up as well, carefully slipped the shawl off her shoulders, and handed it back to Mom.
"Thank you, Mrs. Winters," she said.
Mom took the shawl and quietly draped it over the back of her chair.