Hilda's phone screen lit up, dimmed, lit up again. She stayed on Jasper's chat window, unable to scroll away.
There was so much she wanted to ask him.
Then, for no particular reason, her gaze drifted up, and she spotted Vivienne across the room.
Something compelled her to follow.
Vivienne wound through corridor after corridor until she emerged onto a terrace, where a man stood waiting with his back turned.
Hilda's breath caught.
"Jasper."
He swirled his wine glass and turned with a smile, meeting Vivienne's lips in a kiss.
Vivienne was all fire, coiling around him like a serpent, her body pressed so close that the heat between them was unmistakable.
The rustle of fabric, a woman's breathy whimpers, heavy breathing—all of it threaded into Hilda's ears.
"Between me and Hilda, who makes you feel better?"
"You. Obviously," Jasper murmured, his voice thick with want. "She's uptight and boring. She couldn't compare to you if she tried."
He kissed Vivienne's cheek, his tone dripping with intimacy. "You like that? Wife?"
The only answer was a pleased moan.
Hilda stood in the shadows, watching it all. Her face betrayed nothing.
Her eyes burned and throbbed. She drew one long breath, then dialed his number.
On the terrace, the two of them were tangled together, mouths locked, when the shrill ring cut through the air.
Neither looked pleased. When Jasper saw the caller ID, a flicker of panic crossed his face.
He glanced at Vivienne, then answered.
Hilda's voice came through low and even, stripped of any readable emotion. "Jasper, I forgive you. When are you coming home? I miss you."
Jasper froze. Instinctively, his eyes darted to Vivienne.
Vivienne pressed herself tighter against him on purpose. He let out a stifled groan and tightened his arm around her waist.
"Hilda, I'm busy right now. Let me call you back later and we'll talk properly, okay?"
"Are you with Vivienne?"
"Hilda." His voice dropped, firm and warning. "Stop overthinking. I'll be home tomorrow."
He hung up before she could respond, then scrambled to soothe Vivienne, who was already losing patience.
Hilda watched the scene from the dark and laughed—a short, hollow sound aimed at herself. She turned and walked away.
When she really thought about it, she didn't even have the standing to call this catching him in the act. Vivienne was Jasper's lawful wife.
Seven years she'd given him. And she was nothing.
Her head felt heavy, her steps aimless. Without realizing it, she'd climbed to the rooftop. Cold wind cut across her face as she tipped her head back and stared into the pitch-black sky for a long, long time.
It wasn't until the gala ended and the noise of departing guests drifted up that she snapped out of it. She turned around and found Vivienne standing behind her. She had no idea how long the woman had been there.
"Hello, Hilda." Vivienne strolled toward her, unhurried. "You know who I am, right? I'm Jasper's wife."
"This is the first time we've met face to face. I'm hoping it's also the last."
"What do you want?" Hilda's voice was ice.
Vivienne folded her arms and let out a light laugh. "Is it really that hard to figure out? I want you gone from Jasper's life. Completely. Stop clinging to him."
"You've got it backwards," Hilda said. "You'd be better off warning Jasper. He's the one who's married. Tell him to stop clinging to me."
Vivienne's eyes went wide, her voice turning shrill. "That's a lie!"
"I noticed you a while ago, actually. You were at the terrace too, weren't you? You saw exactly what Jasper and I were doing. Did you not understand?"
"That phone call you made was just you trying to win him back, wasn't it?"
Her gaze dropped to the necklace at Hilda's throat. It looked expensive. She assumed Jasper had given it to her. Her hand shot out, clawing toward Hilda's neck.
Hilda flinched, clutching the pendant. "What are you doing?!"
This necklace was a wedding gift Grandma had saved her entire life to buy. One for Hilda, one for Jasper. It was the only thing Grandma had left behind.
"Let me give you some advice, Hilda. What isn't yours will never be yours."
Vivienne lunged for the necklace without another word. In the struggle, Hilda was shoved toward the edge of the stairwell.
She teetered on the lip in her heels, barely holding on.
At the last possible second, Vivienne spotted a figure approaching. She swapped positions with Hilda in a flash, throwing herself backward.
The necklace was clenched in her fist. The chain bit into Hilda's throat, slicing a thin line of blood across her skin.
The necklace snapped apart and scattered across the floor in pieces.
A heavy thud. Hilda tumbled down the stairs. Vivienne, meanwhile, fell neatly into the arms of Jasper, who had appeared just in time. Not a scratch on her.
"Are you all right? What are you doing up here?"
Jasper's voice was all concern. He looked Vivienne over head to toe, and only when he confirmed she was unharmed did he exhale.
Then he turned on the figure crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, his tone sharp with contempt. "What's wrong with you? Can't you watch where you're going? Are you blind?"
Hilda lay where she'd landed, vision blackening, unable to move. Her hair was tangled across her face, hiding her features.
Jasper, irritated at being ignored, strode down the steps and planted his foot on her palm, grinding down. She curled inward instantly, trembling with pain.
"Are you deaf or mute? Can't speak?"
Vivienne hurried over and tugged at his arm.
"That's enough, Jasper. It was partly my fault. Don't make a fuss over her, please?"
She looked down at Hilda's shaking body, and a wave of satisfaction surged through her.
"I just thought the necklace on this young lady's neck was pretty and leaned in for a closer look. I must have startled her, and we bumped into each other. I'm so sorry."
"Jasper, let's just pay her for the necklace."
The shattered chain lay on the floor not far from their feet.
Jasper glanced at it and frowned. Something about it looked familiar, but he couldn't place it.
"It's worthless junk. She got in your way—she's the one who owes you an apology. The gala's wrapping up. Let's go."
Vivienne nodded with a demure little smile, and the two of them walked off together, chatting and laughing as they went.
Hilda lay on the cold floor, eyes hollow, still as a corpse.
