At Ashford estate,
It was Damien's birthday. The table was filled with delicacies, the feast had yet to begin.
Aveline glanced at the hand wrapped around her shoulder, then turned to the man who was holding her like a treasure.
She smiled warmly when she met his eyes, and he smiled back, but it felt bland.
Turning to the hall, she saw the Ashford family rushing towards him, wishing him, cheerfully talking to him as if she wasn't visible.
Within seconds, Damien's hand slipped from her. Slowly, they shouldered her away and pushed her towards the corner of darkness.
Still, she smiled. It was Damien's birthday.
As she moved, her own reflection startled her. Skinny, sunken eyes and pale skin.
The smell of food triggered nausea. She rushed to the powder room and threw up.
When she was done, tears threatened to spill as she looked in the mirror. She had lost weight, weakness clung to her every movement.
But she didn't cry. It was her husband's birthday.
