Chapter two

Valentina’s POV

The room seemed to be revolving around me, but I kept my chin up. Marco’s hand dropped from Serena’s arm like he’d been burned, his face pale. “Val,” he stammered looking at me like he’d been caught stealing. “I...I didn't think you were into these types of parties. I didn't think you'd want to come."

I laughed, coldly, sharply. "Didn't you tell me you were coming, Marco, is that it? Because you were worried about my schedule, or because you wanted to bring her?

Serena moved forward, her smile practiced, perfectly cruel. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, moving with such precision that it sent a shiver down my spine. "Oh, don't take it like that, Valentina. Everyone knows we have the same face, but I think we both know who wears it better, don't we?"

People in the small circle of standing around us gasped. Bianca, the birthday girl, glanced back and forth between us, her face going from surprise to something much more uncomfortable. I’d been the quiet one, the girl who smiled and took the hits, but something in me snapped when I saw them together.

“Serena." I said, my voice was steady. "You haven't changed. Still trying to shine by putting others down. It's a worn look.”

The mood in the room turned sour, immediately. People started to whisper, their eyes glancing our way. Things got even more tense when Bianca began opening her gifts. The air suddenly became cold. Serena and I had both purchased her the same designer necklace.

 "Wait, are those the same?" a girl standing near Marco snickered, looking at me with narrowed eyes. “Yours, Valentina, looks a little… dull. Where did you get that, some discount bin?I hear you’ve had a rough time since you left your family.”

There was a titter of laughter. It was easy to laugh at me. They all knew I’d left my rich, domineering family to start a life with Marco, working as a small time lawyer and struggling while they spent their parents’ money.

Marco didn't rise for me. But rather, he looked at my gift with a pained expression as if I was embarrassing him. “If you couldn’t get a real one, Val, you should have just told me. You don’t need to compete with Serena.”

It felt like my heart was being crushed under a heavy stone. He actually believes I am a liar.  I had worked extra hours for months to pay for that gift, just to show I could stand on my own two feet. 

“You really think I’d give a fake gift to a friend?” I said, looking straight at Marco.

Bianca stared at the floor, refusing to look at me. She wanted to stay on Marco’s good side so she took the easy way out and kept her mouth shut.

I said, my voice ringing out in the suddenly silent room, "just take it back. Marco, if you're so ashamed of it, just take it. I am sure Serena's is much 'superior'.”

Marco didn't think twice. He reached out and forced the box out of Bianca's hands and pushed it at me. I didn't even move a muscle. I just turned around and walked over to a quiet corner sofa, my blood running cold. I didn't need their pity and I sure as hell didn't need their false approval anymore.

I felt someone standing over me, a few minutes later. Marco . His jaw was tight and he looked exasperated. “You didn't have to make a fuss, Val. Just tell the truth next time. It's OK to say you're broke.”

I looked up at him, expressionless. "The receipt is in the bag, Marco. It’s been there all along. I'll never know because you didn't bother to check, you were too busy assuming I was a failure.”

He blinked at her, his face puzzled. He felt in the bag and took out the little paper slip. His eyes took in the name of the store, and the price, and his expression transformed from annoyed to shocked to deep, embarrassed red. "Val, I… I didn't know. I'm sorry, I just—"

“Save it,” I whispered, and turned my back to him. I was finished. I didn't care about his apology and I didn't care about his excuses.

I watched as his attention slowly moved away from me, back to the center of the room. There was Serena, laughing, glass of champagne in hand. Everybody knew she had a weak stomach and watching her drink recklessly made Marco's face change again, not with the coldness he showed me, but with an intense frantic concern.

He rushed toward her, movements frantic.

 “Serena, wait! You know you can’t take that,” he said loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. He took the glass from her hand, his fingers brushing hers for a beat too long.

Serena tried to grab it, stumbled, her heels snagging on the rug. She fell backward but Marco caught her easily, pulling her close to his chest.

 The room was filled with laughter and cheers. They were the golden couple, the couple everyone wanted to see together.

I sat alone on the sofa and the cold weight of the truth settled in. 

I looked up and saw Marco give a quick look around the room. Our gazes met. I did not smile. I didn't turn away. 

I just looked at him with a completely ice-cold look on my face. Totally.