CHAPTER 006

BETTY

“Fuck. When did she come back? Was she the one he was talking to at the office?” My legs turn to water as she gets closer, and it feels like my entire world is about to detonate.

She removes her mask with one elegant motion, her smile slow, and knowing before stopping right in front of us.

Then, she stretches out her hand towards him, and he takes it like instinct, before kissing it.

The sounds around me fade completely, and suddenly, I freeze.

I stare at him, waiting, hoping he’ll look at me, and say something, anything, but Nathaniel doesn’t even blink in my direction.

He is looking at her, like she’s the only person in the room, and I watch as he leans forward, kissing her cheek.

The air leaves my lungs, every pair of eyes now on me, and my chest tightens until it hurts.

“Breathe, my dear,” Harriette’s voice slips in from beside me, her hand sliding around my tiny waist.

I blink through the blur, turning my head to her, her presence commanding as ever.

“You look beautiful tonight, Betty,” she whispers, trying to distract me, but her eyes tell me she already knows what is going on.

Then she turns to Nathaniel and the woman beside him, nodding once.

“Grandma..,” Nathaniel clears his throat, his voice suddenly unsure, but she cuts him off immediately.

“Aren’t you going to introduce your wife to your…?” she asks, a devious smirk tugging her lips.

Amanda turns slowly, her red lips curving into a too-sweet smile. “Happy Birthday, Harriette,” she blurts, drawing out every syllable like a performance. “You look… incredible. I would never have guessed you were turning eighty.”

The guests around us chuckle politely, even though her tone drips with condescension.

Harriette tilts her head up slightly, her eyes never leaving Amanda’s face. “Oh, darling, I wish I could say the same for you.”

Amanda’s smile twitches, but she recovers fast, leaning in to air kiss both of Harriette’s cheeks.

Then she retreats, sliding herself right back to Nathaniel’s side as if that’s where she’s always belonged, and now I am about to throw up.

Harriette’s eyes flick to Nathaniel, waiting, expecting him to introduce me, but he says nothing, his hand resting casually on his glass, eyes glued to Amanda.

Her hand tightens slightly on her cane, and I can tell she’s fighting the urge to say more, but she doesn’t because she wouldn’t risk causing a scandal.

“I am not staying,” Amanda says, brushing invisible lint off her red gown. “I only wanted to thank Nathaniel for dinner the other day.”

Nathaniel’s jaw stiffens, and he finally looks at me for a second before turning away again.

Amanda exhales softly, her hand gliding over his shoulder. “I only hope I didn’t keep you from the funeral,” she adds, then stops, just long enough to fake concern before facing me. “My deepest condolences.”

The words hit like a punch to my chest, and the glass in my hand begins to tremble between my fingers.

“You were having dinner with her when my mother was being lowered into the ground?” The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them.

Nathaniel turns his head slowly to me, his expression carved in stone. I search his eyes for something—guilt, regret, even shame, but there’s nothing there—only cold indifference.

And then, in one simple, brutal movement, he takes Amanda’s hand.  “Don’t leave yet,” he says, his voice gentle in a way that makes my stomach twist. “You just got here.”

I stand there, frozen in disbelief, while the rest of the room pretends not to look.

“Nathaniel,” Harriette’s voice cuts through the air like a blade, sharp and heavy with authority, but he doesn’t even glance at her, something he has never done before.

He places his drink on the counter with calculated calm, then leads Amanda toward the dance floor, the music swelling to meet them as if the universe itself approves.

Harriette steps in front of me, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. “It’s all right, dear,” she says, her voice low and even. “Don’t mind him. I’ll have a word with him later.”

I nod weakly, but my throat feels too tight to speak.

My fingers loosen, and I shove the glass into her hand before I can drop it. “I have to go,” my voice cracks under the weight of everything I’m trying to hold in.

She doesn’t stop me. She just nods, stepping aside, and her eyes follow me with quiet understanding as I make my way toward the garden doors.

The air outside is colder than I expected, and it bites at my skin, but it’s nothing compared to what I had just gone through back there.

The minute my heels touch the grass, a choked sound leaves my mouth, half sob, half gasp, and  I clutch my chest, trying to keep myself from collapsing entirely.

I stand there in the darkness, surrounded by the faint scent of roses and the distant sound of laughter seeping from the ballroom windows, before I hear footsteps behind me.

I quickly swipe at my face, forcing myself upright, pretending to admire the flowers, as a couple strolls past me, their soft laughter threading through the night air, and they nod politely.

I smile back, my lips trembling, and hold the expression just long enough for them to pass.

The second they’re gone, the smile falls apart, and I cover my mouth with one shaking hand, pressing it hard to silence the sob threatening to escape, before I stumble deeper into the garden.

I find a bench hidden behind a row of climbing roses, and I sit, folding my arms around myself, my body trembling uncontrollably.

Amanda’s words loop in my head, over and over again, and I shake my head slowly, whispering into the darkness.

“You’re such a fool, Betty. How could you ever believe he’d love you after all this time? How can you stay here, pretending this is a life?”

I close my eyes, my voice barely audible. “What’s the worst that could happen if I just left?”

The thought terrifies me as much as it tempts me. But then I see Grace's face and the thought breaks me all over again.

I bow my head, another quiet sob shaking through me. “I don’t know how much more I can take,” I whisper, cupping my face with both my hands as more tears spill, but a sudden rustling jolts me, and my head snaps up.

The sound comes again, closer this time, from behind the rose bushes, and I stand quickly, wiping my tears with the back of my hand, forcing my voice to steady. “Hello?”

The rustling continues, louder this time, and I see a shadow move behind the hedge.

“Who’s there?” I call again, starting to freak out, and just as I take a step back, I hear someone step out from the side.

I stumble, colliding with something solid and warm, and strong hands brush against my shoulders before I fall.

“Hey, careful there,” a deep voice growls, low and calm.

I blink up, startled, my breath catching.

He’s tall—taller than Nathaniel, with broad shoulders and a frame that fills the space around him effortlessly.

A faint scent of cigarettes and rain clings to his leather jacket, his hair is dark and tousled, and there’s a small scar slicing through his left brow that makes him look dangerous in a way that feels… deliberate.

He looks nothing like anyone from this house, and maybe that’s why I can’t stop staring.

I pull away quickly, my voice sharper than I intend. “Who the hell are you? Did you follow me?”

He chuckles dismissively, his expression unreadable. “Why would I do that?”

“Then who are you?” I ask, swallowing hard, my pulse still racing. “Because I don’t think the staff should be wandering around this side of the garden.”

His mouth twitches, and amusement flickers across his face as he runs a hand through his hair lazily.

“Do I look like the staff?” he asks, voice heavy with arrogance. 

I hesitate, my heart still pounding in my chest. “Then who are you?”

He tilts his head, his smirk widening, and then drops his voice into that familiar rasp from every childhood movie. “I’m Batman.”