Before I could say a word, Fiona let out a sharp little laugh.
"You really know how to play a man's heartstrings, Miss Sullivan. With your history with Blake, who would dare lay a finger on you? That sickly makeup is incredibly realistic, by the way. Must've taken you ages."
Blake had been about to stand. At her words, he settled back down.
He tapped out a cigarette, leaned into the lighter Fiona held up for him, and lit it.
Smoke curled around his features, blurring them. Only his eyes were clear, fixed on me with barely concealed impatience.
"Since you've had time to reflect, come apologize to Fiona."
Fiona sat nestled in Blake's arms, dressed head to toe in white, the picture of innocence. She swirled a glass of something potent, its proof unknown.
"I don't actually want to make things difficult for you."
"But you insulted my parents. Anyone would be upset, right?"
She paused, then gasped with theatrical surprise. "Oh, wait. I forgot. Your parents dumped you when you were little. You're just a pathetic thing nobody wanted."
I said nothing.
She set the glass on the coffee table and smiled. "Go ahead. Apologize."
I lowered my head. "I'm sorry."
Fiona shook her head. "Just words? That's not sincere at all. This is a hundred-and-twenty-proof drink. Finish it."
I stared at the green liquid fizzing in the glass and instinctively looked at Blake.
During those years I'd fought beside him to build everything from nothing, I'd destroyed my stomach at countless business dinners. I'd been rushed to the ICU more than once. Blake had been terrified. He swore he'd never let me touch alcohol again.
He knew better than anyone what I'd looked like on that operating table, half-dead.
But the man sitting in front of me now just exhaled a lazy ring of smoke. His expression was indifferent, as if he were commenting on the weather.
"Tessa, it's one drink. Your tolerance isn't that bad."
I'd stopped expecting anything from him a long time ago. But my heart still clenched, beyond my control.
I picked up the glass and swallowed it down.
The burn seared from my throat straight into my stomach. A weight dropped through my lower abdomen, and the pain buckled my knees. I staggered two steps.
"Miss Sullivan holds her liquor so well. Then you might as well finish the rest of these too."
Fiona pointed at the row of colorful drinks lined up on the table.
My expression went cold.
Fiona turned to Blake, eyes brimming with hurt. "Blake, she called me a homewrecker. She threatened to kill my parents. The emotional damage alone... all I'm asking for is this tiny bit of compensation. Is that really too much?"
"Of course not." Blake pulled her closer, grinding his cigarette into the ashtray as though the answer were obvious. "Tessa, I'd like to help you, but you went too far. Do what Fiona says. Once she's not angry anymore, you can make amends."
I nodded calmly.
Pressing one hand against my abdomen, where the pain twisted like a blade, I reached past the glasses and picked up the full decanter. "A few drinks aren't enough to make amends. I'll finish the bottle."
When the empty decanter hit the floor, I couldn't hold it back. Blood sprayed from my mouth, spattering the tile. My legs gave out and I crumpled to the ground.
Fiona recoiled several steps in disgust. "Miss Sullivan, it was just one bottle. Did you really have to break out the fake blood?"
Blake bought it. His brow creased with irritation. "Enough. How long are you going to keep up the act? Fiona's been more than generous with you. Stop embarrassing yourself and get up."
I didn't speak. I just lifted my head and looked at him.
The woman closest to me suddenly screamed.
"Blood! There's blood all over her pants. She's... oh God, she's having a miscarriage..."
I met Blake's eyes as every drop of color drained from his face. And I smiled. The first real smile I'd managed all day.
"Your child. I've given that to her too. Is it enough now?"
