A Toast to the Wrong Wife
Five years ago, I was nearly killed in a car accident while saving my mother-in-law.
My injuries were so severe that I spent years abroad undergoing treatment and rehabilitation.
The moment I landed back home, I ran into my former college roommate, Vanessa Caldwell.
She and her designer-clad friends looked me up and down with open disgust.
"Gianna Lott?" Vanessa stared at me. "Is that really you?"
One of her friends covered her mouth and giggled. "Vanessa, why does your old roommate look like she just got out of cleaning the airport bathrooms?"
Vanessa waved a hand, pretending to defend me. "Don't be rude. Then again, Gianna's mother was a housekeeper..."
She paused dramatically before giving me a fake, apologetic smile. "Oh my God, Gianna. I'm so sorry. Was I not supposed to mention that?"
I had no interest in entertaining them.
I turned to leave, but Vanessa stepped directly into my path.
"By the way, my son's first birthday party is tomorrow," she said. "We haven't seen each other in years. You absolutely have to come."
I rejected, "No, thanks. I'm not interested."
Her friend's expression immediately darkened. "Don't be so ungrateful. Do you even know who Vanessa married?"
She leaned closer, her voice dripping with superiority. "Her husband is the heir to the most powerful family in Crownmere. Someone like you could live 10 lifetimes and still never get close to a man like him."
Another woman tittered meanly. "Just look at her. She probably doesn't even own a proper dress. Gianna, should I donate one of my old ones to you?"
Vanessa raised a hand, putting on another performance. "That's enough."
Then, she looked at me with exaggerated pity. "Gianna, I never imagined your life would turn out this badly."
She sighed. "For old times' sake, I can arrange a catering job for you at the party. You'll earn a little money and get a glimpse of how the upper class lives."
Before I could refuse, she shoved an invitation into my hand.
I was about to throw it away when the name listed under "Father of the Birthday Boy" caught my eye and my breath hitched. It was my husband's name, Alexander Whitmore.