Chapter 2
Charlotte Summers glided over in a Chanel-inspired dress, carrying a Hermès bag, every inch the socialite.
"It's been a while. I really should thank you," she said, linking her arm through Nathan's with a triumphant smile.
"Nathan told me you couldn't stand him when he was broke, always putting him down. If not for you, he never would've noticed me—or worked so hard to win me over. You basically played Cupid for us, Emily."
"But hey, people should know their place. Someone like you..." She looked me up and down, clicking her tongue. "Didn't marry rich, huh? Yeah, figured. Guys like that don't go for your type."
I was genuinely confused.
Nathan and I never even dated in this timeline. So all that talk about me looking down on him for being poor? Completely baseless.
The lengths he'd go to impress Charlotte—lying about me like that—was pathetic.
"What kind of woman am I—" My retort was cut short by an excited voice from behind me.
"Mom!" Andy ran over, waving his medal from sports day, his face glowing with pride.
Charlotte blocked him, crouching down with a fake smile. "Hi there. I'm your mom's friend, Charlotte."
While speaking, she dug her nails into his soft cheek. His skin turned red instantly.
I slapped her hand away. "What are you doing to my son?"
She wiped her hand with a handkerchief, looking unbothered. "He's adorable, so I gave him a little pat. What, is he too precious for that?
"You really don't pay attention. Look at his lips—they're cracked. He needs a drink."
As she spoke, Charlotte pulled out a thermos from her bag and twisted off the lid.
Steam poured out immediately.
Obviously, it had just come off the boil.
I quickly yanked Andy behind me. "Thanks, but we're not drinking that."
"What, you hate me or something? It's just water—it won't kill you!" she scoffed.
She ignored me and moved the steaming cup toward Andy.
Instinctively, I threw my arm out to block her.
Charlotte screamed.
The scalding water splashed all over her.
Her skin instantly turned red and blotchy, but all she cared about was her designer outfit. She frantically dabbed at her dress and bag with tissues, barely registering the burn.
She whined, "My dress and bag are brand new! They can't get wet!"
The other parents could tell that her outfit cost a fortune.
They gave me sympathetic looks.
After fussing over her clothes forever, Charlotte finally screamed at me. "Emily, I know you're jealous I won Nathan! And you can't stand me because I'm rich!
"But I never thought you'd be this sneaky—ruining my bag and dress on purpose! Don't think I'll let you off just because we're old classmates!
"You're paying for this! I don't care how poor you are—you're paying!"
Nathan stormed over and shoved me hard, glaring. "Emily, you're way out of line!
"Charlotte was just trying to offer your kid some water! But you refused her kindness and even dumped it all over her!"
Kindness? Seriously?
Who handed boiling water to a seven-year-old and called it kindness?
Besides, I didn't mean for this to happen.
I just pushed her away—I was protecting my son from getting burned.
Steadying myself, I wrapped my arms around Andy, shielding him. He hugged me back just as tight, clutching his little medal like treasure.
"Don't you dare bully my mom!" he shouted.
Nathan shot Andy a look of annoyance, then turned back to me as if he could read my mind and started throwing shade in front of everyone.
"Emily, look at my wife—young, beautiful, rich. Now look at yourself in that cheap shirt, riding around on that beat-up bike. Can't stand it, can you? So you take it out on her?"