VI

“I don’t want to be here,” Cainan grumbles, holding onto Samantha’s hand as they stroll through the guest present at the party. Some faces are familiar and some aren’t, but they all seem to have one thing in common, they are all old, just like Hugo.

Everyone here would probably be dead in ten years, including Hugo, and if wishes came true, Hugo’s ten years would be tonight. He knew that is a horrible thing to wish someone but he can’t help it.

A few grandpas here had young ladies in their arms, and he wondered which poor bastards they had snatched them from. He would bet all his money that most of these women weren't here because they loved these men. Their riches probably enticed them.

Clara is a thirty-five-year-old woman married to a sixty-six-year-old man and if that doesn’t irk Cainan’s skin, nothing else would. It’s probably obvious to the world, and him she married him for his money, but he knows he wouldn’t have complained if she had waited and married him for his own money.