When Clara emerged from the restroom, she had composed herself, at least outwardly. She gave a cold, forced smile to her reflection in the decorative mirror at the end of the hallway, at her own red-rimmed, vulnerable face. It was time to end this absurd charade.
She went back to the bathroom and took out her cosmetics from her purse. With practiced speed and precision, she carefully concealed all traces of crying around her eyes with a slightly thicker foundation, then drew a bolder, more dramatic eyeliner and applied a retro, bright red lipstick. Instantly, the mirror reflected a strikingly beautiful Clara, exuding confidence and charisma. Her overly sharp gaze and intense makeup acted like a sturdy mask, sealing away all her heartbreak and vulnerability, leaving no room for observation.
When she stepped back into the dazzling banquet hall, Liam and Lila were indeed already waiting for her in the center of the hall, seemingly whispering something to each other.
"Honey, where have you been? You haven't been back for so long, and you didn't answer my calls. I was so worried about you!"
The moment Liam saw her, he strode over to her, his tone laced with just the right amount of anxiety and concern. However, when he noticed the heavy makeup on Clara's face, so different from her usual fresh and elegant style, he was momentarily taken aback, a fleeting, almost imperceptible look of surprise crossing his eyes, quickly replaced by worry. He reached out naturally, wanting to take her hand affectionately, just as he had for the past three years, to feel her warmth.
"It's nothing, I just took a while to touch up my makeup, and my phone was on silent so I didn't hear it."
Clara's voice was calm and even, as if she were stating something unrelated to herself. Almost the instant his fingertips touched the skin on the back of her hand, she subtly yet resolutely pulled her hand out of his palm, letting it hang at her side, her fingertips slightly curled.
"Really, you're alright?"
Her hand suddenly felt empty, the lingering delicate touch instantly replaced by the cool air. Liam stared blankly at her empty palm for a moment, a strange feeling rising within her. She had never so clearly resisted his touch before.
"Um."
Clara didn't want to say anything more, not even giving him a second glance, and walked straight past him into the crowd. Her straight back and aloof posture seemed to draw an invisible chasm between them.
Watching Clara's resolute retreating figure, Liam frowned deeply, a strange sense of unease creeping in. Today, Clara, from her makeup to her demeanor, and even her aloof manner, seemed different from the gentle, dependent wife he knew. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it; it was just a vague and irritating intuition.
At that moment, Lila, who could no longer contain herself, held a glass of blood-red wine, a fake smile plastered on her face, and strode up to Clara, blocking her way.
"Happy birthday, sister-in-law! I was wrong to disturb you and my brother earlier. This drink is my way of making amends. Please do me this favor!"
Lila smiled and handed the carefully prepared glass of red wine to Clara, her eyes filled with barely concealed calculation and eager anticipation as she watched Clara's reaction intently, afraid she might refuse.
Gazing at the alluring red liquid shimmering under the light, Clara felt as if an ice pick had pierced her heart, a chill instantly spreading to every limb. She knew this drink was an invitation to hell. She remained silent for a long time, so long that the smile on Lila's face was almost impossible to maintain, and the atmosphere around her seemed to freeze. Finally, she slowly reached out and accepted the heavy glass, laden with malice and betrayal.
She didn't look at Lila, but instead, holding the glass of red wine, she walked back to Liam step by step. She raised her eyes and gazed deeply, almost greedily, at the handsome face she had loved for so many years, trying to find even the slightest hesitation, reluctance, or struggle in his deep eyes.
“Liam,” she called him by his full name for the first time in public, her voice soft but clear, “this drink… do you really want me to drink it?”
Her gaze, like the most precise searchlight, locked onto his eyes, not missing a single subtle change. She was giving him one last chance, and also giving her own dead love a final farewell.
Liam merely frowned slightly, seemingly puzzled by her abrupt question and form of address. He then raised the wine glass he had somehow acquired, his gentle and perfect demeanor returning, and spoke in a relaxed and natural tone:
"Honey, what's wrong with you today? You're acting so strange. Of course we should drink! Today is your special day, happy birthday! I'll drink with you."
As he spoke, he casually downed the champagne in his glass, then looked at her with a smile, waiting for her next move.
Watching him drink his "clean" glass of wine without hesitation, seeing the flawless, almost genuine tenderness in his eyes, Clara's heart ached to the extreme, leaving only a deathly numbness. The last glimmer of hope was completely extinguished.
Slowly, she brought the wine glass, which carried the weight of conspiracy, to her lips. The cool rim of the glass touched her warm lips, carrying a deadly allure. However, just as everyone thought she was about to drink it, the next second...
