Gabriel's Obsession

Vows and Visions

Amelia spent the next hour in a frantic whirlwind, determined to prepare an assortment of snacks for the upcoming high tea. She understood the significance of this gathering for Gabriel and his business associates, and despite her lack of culinary expertise, she was resolute in ensuring everything was perfect.

But determination alone wasn't enough. Every task felt like an uphill battle. The recipes looked simple on paper, yet in execution, they seemed anything but. The sandwiches turned out soggy, the cookies ended up burnt beyond salvation, and the tea—rather than exuding warmth and refinement—was steeped too long, rendering it unbearably bitter. Still, she pressed on, hoping her efforts would be enough.

By the time the guests arrived, Amelia greeted them warmly, a hopeful smile masking the creeping anxiety settling in her stomach. She carefully presented the refreshments she had worked so hard on, praying they would overlook any imperfections.

Her hopes were dashed almost immediately. The polite smiles faltered as the guests took hesitant bites, struggling to conceal their disappointment. The sandwiches squished unpleasantly between their fingers, the burnt cookies crumbled into charred remnants, and the tea left an unmistakable grimace on their lips. The weight of failure settled over Amelia like a heavy cloak, her pulse quickening with every uncomfortable glance exchanged across the table.

Then Gabriel walked in.

His expression turned thunderous the moment he took in the sight before him. The finely set table he had envisioned was nowhere to be seen. Instead of elegant porcelain, cheap disposable cups sat in disarray. The food—if it could even be called that—was a disaster. His associates were visibly struggling to maintain their composure, and as their gazes flickered between him and his wife, he could feel the humiliation clawing up his spine.

Through clenched teeth, he addressed her, his voice laced with irritation. "Amelia, what in God's name is this?"

Amelia's heart plummeted. She had known the results weren't perfect, but she hadn't anticipated his anger to be this severe. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she fumbled for words. "I... I didn't know what high tea was," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Gabriel inhaled sharply, his frustration evident as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then, with a forced, apologetic smile, he turned to his guests. "My sincerest apologies for this... unfortunate experience," he said, his tone clipped. "Clearly, some lessons in etiquette and household management are in order." His words dripped with sarcasm, and though his colleagues chuckled awkwardly, Amelia could feel their silent judgment pressing down on her.

She swallowed against the lump forming in her throat, shame washing over her in waves. She wanted nothing more than to disappear, to fade into the background and escape the mortifying scene she had unintentionally created.

As the meeting progressed, Amelia struggled to maintain her composure, her hands trembling slightly as she clasped them in her lap. The conversation among Gabriel and his associates was a blur—financial jargon and business strategies that held no meaning to her. But what she did understand, with painful clarity, was Gabriel's gaze boring into her, cold and scrutinizing. His disappointment hung in the air like a storm cloud, suffocating her beneath its weight.

She did her best to remain still, to suppress the anxiety clawing at her insides, but the tension was unbearable. Every breath felt labored, every moment an agonizing wait for the inevitable fallout of her failure.

Finally, the meeting concluded. Amelia stood beside Gabriel, forcing a polite smile as they bid farewell to the guests. Gabriel, ever the perfect host, thanked them for coming and once again offered an apology for the culinary mishap—an apology that felt like another dagger to her already wounded pride.