Chapter 8
It was only then that Helen noticed Emily.
Her eyes lit up.
"Emily, you're here, too," she remarked.
Emily greeted her sweetly, "Good evening, Mrs. Bennett."
Helen walked over and took her hand.
"Emily, what's wrong? Why are your eyes all red? Has someone been mean to you?" she asked.
Mom's expression instantly turned icy as soon as Helen said that.
Charles said quietly, "Mom, no one has been mean to her."
Helen gave him a playful glare.
"You always say no one did anything. Emily's got a delicate nature, and she never says a word if she's been hurt," she retorted.
Then, she led Emily over to us.
Helen continued, "My dear in-laws, please don't mind. Emily grew up without parents, so I've always treated her like my own daughter.
"She came with Charles today to share in your family's happiness."
Dad didn't acknowledge the "in-laws" remark.
He asked, "Mrs. Bennett, did you know Charles brought her here?"
Helen paused for a moment, then smiled. "Of course, I knew. Emily would be all alone for the holiday, so I told Charles to keep her company. Sophie, you don't mind, right?"
Everyone turned to look at me.
I looked at Helen's casual smile and finally got it. The way Charles had acted like everything was his right didn't happen out of nowhere.
The Bennett family already treated Emily as family.
Whether I'd feel awkward, get pushed aside, or end up having to sit on a spare chair at my own dad's birthday celebration, none of that ever crossed their minds.
My mom took a deep breath.
"Mrs. Bennett, it's getting late. Let's talk about the engagement another time," she said.
Helen's smile froze.
"Engagement? Didn't we agree to talk about it tonight? I brought a copy of Charles's identification documents," she said.
As she spoke, she pulled a folder out of her bag.
Charles glanced over at me.
"Sophie," he called.
I avoided his eyes.
Helen picked up on the awkward vibe, and her smile faded.
"What's wrong? Did the kids get into a fight or something?" she asked.
Emily spoke softly, "Mrs. Winters, it's all my fault."
Helen gave her hand a reassuring pat.
"What does this have to do with you? You always shoulder the blame when it's not yours," she said.
Then, she turned to me, her tone still polite, but with the unmistakable authority of someone older.
She said, "Sophie, let me be frank. It's a good thing for Charles to have someone caring and reliable like Emily around. When a guy's out hustling, he needs someone in his corner.
"Your family's got your back, and they care about you, so don't sweat the small stuff."
My mom's face drained of color.
"Mrs. Bennett," she interrupted, and her voice was so soft that it was almost a whisper.
Mom said, "Sophie is our daughter, and we've always cherished her. She's not here to prove how generous she can be for another person's benefit."
Helen was caught off guard.
Charles frowned. "Mrs. Winters, that's not what my mom meant."
Dad suddenly spoke up, "So what did she mean, then?"
The hallway went quiet.
The hotel staff, who were clearing the glasses, moved more quietly.
Charles parted his lips but couldn't utter a word.
Helen realized that she'd put her foot in her mouth, and her smile turned awkward.
She immediately explained, "Oh, Rick. I tend to say things the wrong way. What I mean is, if Sophie and Charles do become family, she'll need to be more generous.
"Emily's a good kid. She's a bit dependent on Charles."
Dad looked at her.
"So, she's dependent enough that my daughter didn't get a seat at her father's birthday celebration. Is that what you call 'a bit'?" he asked.
Helen's smile completely vanished.
Emily's eyes welled up, and tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Mr. Winters, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that seat was so important," Emily said softly.
Dad didn't spare her a glance.
His gaze stayed locked on Charles.
"Charles, did you tell Sophie to sit on that extra chair tonight?" Dad asked.
Charles hesitated for a couple of seconds.
"Mr. Winters, it-it happened so suddenly, I..." he stammered.
"Yes or no?" Dad pressed.
His voice was still calm, but there was no mistaking the edge in it.
Charles swallowed hard.
"Yes, I did," he answered.
My dad nodded. "Alright," he said.
He turned to my mom.
"Let's cancel the private room," he said.
Helen got anxious.
She objected, "Seriously, Rick? It's only a seat. The kids are young, and they didn't handle it well, but we adults shouldn't make a big deal out of it."
Dad looked at her, his eyes finally turning cold.
"Mrs. Bennett, to you, it's only a seat," he said.
He reached out and pulled me to his side.
"But to me, that's my daughter's place," he continued.
Helen froze in place.
Blood gradually drained from Charles's face.
Dad didn't spare them another glance. He turned to me and said, "Sophie, come home with us."
I nodded in response.
After I took a couple of steps, Charles suddenly grabbed my wrist.
"Sophie, let's talk," he requested.
I stared at his hand.
Back then, whenever he held my hand, I always felt safe.
But tonight, that same hand had held Emily's wrist, supported her shoulder, fixed her shawl, and pulled her into our family photo.
Now, as Charles grabbed me, it felt like he was only realizing I was still here.
I slowly pulled my hand away.
"Not tonight," I refused.
Charles's eyes flashed with panic.
"Then when?" he pressed.
I glanced at Emily behind him, then at the copy of Charles's identification documents in Helen's hand.
"When your family decides who's getting engaged to you," I replied.
With that, I followed my parents into the elevator.
As the doors slid shut, I saw Charles still standing rooted to the spot. This time, he didn't rush over to comfort Emily, who was crying her eyes out.
Dad stood beside me, still holding the business proposal he never got to hand over.
The paper was deeply creased where his fingers had pressed into it.