Emma POV
"Yeah, he was the one who died, and maybe it was all my fault." The words tumbled from my lips like a painful confession, each syllable piercing my heart like a dagger. A searing pain radiated through my chest, as guilt engulfed me like a suffocating shroud. I had once suspected Jacob of being the mastermind, never realizing he was merely a pawn in this sinister game. The haunting thought lingered: had I inadvertently dragged him into this mess? My mind reeled, a maelstrom of questions swirling within. Who would be next? The ominous query echoed in my thoughts, fueling my growing unease.
Tears welled up, and before I could contain them, they streamed down my face. Ethan's arms encircled me, drawing me close. "It's okay, everything will be fine," he whispered, his gentle voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. His patting on my back was a comforting gesture, his touch imbuing me with a sense of security.
I didn't resist; instead, I surrendered to his embrace, seeking solace in his warmth. Ethan might be a jackass at times, but in this moment, he revealed his soft underbelly, proving that even the toughest of guys have a marshmallow center.
As I buried my face in his shoulder, the warmth of his body seeped into mine, calming my turbulent emotions. Maybe, just maybe, everything would indeed be alright.
He hugged me for a while, until a voice interrupted our tender moment, "Ethan!"
I quickly broke the hug, averting my face to discreetly wipe away my tears. Ethan's expression shifted to a radiant grin as he greeted, "Yo, Mum!" His voice was infused with affection and warmth.
He turned to me, his eyes shining with pride, "And this is my mum," he said, extending his hand in a welcoming gesture toward the woman standing behind him. His mother's soft features and gentle smile exuded kindness, immediately making me feel at ease.
"Nice to meet you Mrs. Blackwood, I'm Emmaline," I said, my voice laced with warmth, as I stretched out my hands to offer a handshake. But to my surprise, she enveloped me in a warm, tender hug, her arms wrapping around me like a gentle embrace.
"Oh, my dear, nice to meet you too, Emmaline," she whispered, her voice infused with sincerity, her eyes shining with genuine delight. Her face radiated a gentle glow, as if lit from within, and her soft lips curved into a loving smile.
I smiled back, my heart responding to her kindness, and relaxed into the warmth of her presence.
"You go to Oakdale too, right?" she inquired, her brow furrowing slightly with curiosity, her eyes sparkling with interest, and a hint of mischief dancing in their depths.
"Yes, ma!" I replied, my smile still plastered on my face, feeling a sense of ease and belonging.
Her expression softened, and a tinge of sadness clouded her eyes, like a veil of sorrow gently drawn across her face. "Ohh, I'm so sorry about Jacob," she said, her voice laced with compassion, her words infused with the weight of empathy. "I heard he had the kindest soul." Her voice trembled slightly, and her lips quivered, betraying the depth of her feeling.
I was about to respond when I heard my mum's voice at the back, "Emma!!". She was coming towards me, her heels clicking on the floor with a confident stride. "Come on, it's time to go home."
"Oh my goodness!" Mrs. Blackwood stood still, her eyes widening in horror, her face pale as alabaster, and her lips parting in shock.
My mum looked at her, her eyes narrowing slightly, a hint of amusement playing on her lips, and a mischievous glint dancing in her gaze. The glass of wine she was holding slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor, and the room fell silent.
The air was charged with tension as the two women faced off, their eyes locked in a silent understanding.
"Well, well, well," my mum said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, her tone husky and playful. "If it isn't the infamous Mrs. Blackwood, still reigning supreme with her perfect smile and impeccable manners." She raised an eyebrow, her gaze sweeping over Mrs. Blackwood's elegant outfit.
Mrs. Blackwood's face flushed, and her eyes sparkled with mirth. "And if it isn't Rachel Thompson, still trying to cling to her fading fame." She smiled sweetly, her voice laced with venom, her words dripping with honey.
The room erupted into a mixture of gasps and snickers, and I felt my face burning with embarrassment.
"Mum, stop," I whispered, tugging on her arm.
But she just winked at me. "Just keeping the old times alive, sweetie. You know, Mrs. Blackwood and I have a history." She turned back to Mrs. Blackwood, her eyes glinting with amusement. "We were rivals in our glory days, weren't we, dear?"
Mrs. Blackwood chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "Glory days? You mean when you were trying to steal the spotlight with your mediocre singing?" She raised an eyebrow, her gaze locked onto my mum.
My mum laughed, a husky, seductive sound. "Oh, I think I did more than just try. And I certainly didn't need to rely on my husband's wealth to get ahead." She smiled sweetly, her voice dripping with innuendo.
The tension between them was palpable, a living, breathing entity that pulsed with every word. Mrs. Blackwood turned to me, her lips curling into a sarcastic smile.
"She's your daughter, huh?" she sneered, her voice dripping with malice.
"Now I see the resemblance," she spat, her eyes raking over me with disdain, her gaze lingering on my face like a venomous sting. Her eyes locked onto mine, and she hurled the insult: "Ethan, you shouldn't be friends with such trash." Her voice was laced with contempt, the word hanging in the air like a challenge.
I felt a slap of shock, my heart racing with indignation. What the actual FUCK! Did she just call me trash.
Suddenly, my mum's hand connected with Mrs. Blackwood's face, the sound echoing through the hall like a crack of thunder. Gasps erupted from the crowd, and the room plunged into chaos.
Mrs. Blackwood's face turned beet-red with fury as she slapped my mum back. The two women clashed, their nails scratching, hair pulling, and fists flying. Tables scraped against the floor, chairs crashed, and the hall descended into pandemonium.
"You wicked witch!" my mum shrieked, her voice piercing the din.
"How dare you!" Mrs. Blackwood retorted, her words dripping with venom.
Ethan rushed forward, grasping his mum's arms, trying to pry her away. "Mum, stop! Please!"
Angel and I dragged my mum away, her legs kicking, fists flailing.
"Let me go! I'll kill her!" my mum yelled, her face contorted with rage.
"You're just as vile as your precious daughter!" Mrs. Blackwood screamed, her voice fading into the distance.
As we stumbled out of the hall, my mum's curses still echoed through the corridors, "May you rot in hell, you vicious cow!"
Mrs. Blackwood's retort echoed back, "Your daughter is no better than the trash you are!"
The ugliness of their words hung in the air, a toxic cloud that refused to dissipate.
Chapter seventeen loading.......❤️
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