Hearts We Mend To Break (Book I)

.60.

💫GISELLE💫

It had taken nearly two hours for me to feel perfect enough to go on display. My mother met me at my bedroom door, escorting me down to the party that had already started. I displayed the fakest smile I owned, taking several deep breaths as I braced myself for whatever came next.

The décor was amazing, beautiful assortments of flowers, exhibiting every color and scent that represented fall. The rust of bronze, toasty oranges, minty greens, and the mustards of yellow all filling the room with warmth and a festive cheer. My mother really went all out with the designs. The shading from each window was dim today, setting a homey and cozy mood around us. Soft jazz tones filled the air as the aroma of every favorite dish was inhaled into our nostrils. This day was not about family for my parents, but based on the effort they'd put forth, I could tell it was important.

Once downstairs, I was met by my dad's closest business friends and their son, Oliver. I hugged Mrs. Temphill and then her son. Glancing over at her husband, Mr. Temphill, I attempted to shake his hand, but he took it upon himself to pull me in for a very uncomfortable embrace. Holding my breath, trying to fight the urge to push him away, I waited for him to release me. It wasn't until Mrs. Temphill cleared her throat that he decided to let go of me.

"How's college, Giselle?" The curious eight-year-old questioned me, adjusting the mood.

"It's really great. My GPA is already extraordinary, and I pledged already."

"That's my girl." My mom grinned with pride, hand caressing my shoulder.

"Oh, that's amazing. I knew you'd go on to do wonderful things." Mrs. Temphill praised. "You've always had the brains to go with all of that beauty." As she said her last few words, her eyes traveled across my body from head to toe.

I shifted my weight from the left side to the right, hoping it would set off some kind of signal in her brain that what she was doing was rude. The envy glazing her glare. The disgust hidden behind her grin. I knew that this Mrs. Temphill had a bad taste in her mouth that either I or her husband was the cause of.

"I have to make my rounds. It was nice seeing you all." I couldn't' have gotten out of there any faster, my feet leading my body in any direction that felt safe or easy to survive. My mother trailed behind me, trying to keep up.

"I hate him." I groaned.

"You hate everyone, honey." She countered, causing my eyes to dart in her direction.

When I turned to look at my mom, I noticed a very pretty blonde woman appear and then disappear again. Her face was so familiar, her eyes drawing me in like waves in the ocean breeze. Where'd she go? Who was she? Was she watching me? Searching the room, eyes scanning every nook and cranny of the immaculately decorated room, I wasn't able to locate her again. I took a deep breath, praying hallucinations derived from the stress of playing my perfect little role, wasn't getting the best of me.

"What's wrong?"

"Um..." I looked once more, hoping I could catch just one more glance. "Nothing. I was just—nothing." Shaking it off, I realized that I was probably just tired as hell.

Another hour of meeting and greeting guests, walking as best I could in a pair of heels from my mother's closet of addiction. I swear, she owned more shoes than the shoe store, hoarding every year and season of the 'it' look. I loathed her excessive spending habits, wishing she was a bit more frugal or careful with my father's funds. Maybe if she didn't spend so much, he wouldn't have worked so much when I was growing up. At least, that's one of the tales I told myself, trying to find the perfect place to apply the resentments of blame.