The Gala Dinner

After making sure Daniel's car left, Alina returned to the mansion and sat in her quiet room. Staring at her open wardrobe. Rows of expensive gowns hung neatly—all chosen by Margaret, all in "appropriate" colors for a Mrs. Blackwood. Cream, navy, gray, black.

Never red. Never bold.

"Alina?"

A familiar voice made Alina turn. Emma stood in the doorway with two cups of coffee and a face full of concern.

"Mrs. Helen let me in. She said you needed a friend." Emma entered and closed the door. "And since you didn't answer my calls, I knew you really did."

Alina smiled weakly. "Thank you for coming."

Emma set down the coffee on the table and immediately hugged Alina tightly. "You look devastated. What happened?"

Alina nodded, her throat tight. "I told Daniel I want a divorce."

Emma drew a sharp breath, hugging Alina tighter. "Oh Alina... are you serious? You finally said it?"

"I couldn't take it anymore." Alina's voice trembled. "He came home smelling of Clarissa's perfume with lipstick on his collar. On our anniversary. And he didn't even ask me to stay."

"Bastard," Emma hissed. "Five years and he still can't say he wants you?"

"Because he doesn't want me." Alina's voice was quiet but there were no more tears. She was done crying. "I'm tired of hoping."

Emma rubbed Alina's back. "My apartment is always open. Whenever you're ready—"

"After tonight." Alina looked at her wardrobe. "After I finish playing the role of Mrs. Blackwood one last time."

Emma followed Alina's gaze to the closet. "Which one will you wear?"

Alina reached for a dress in the very back corner—the only dress she'd bought herself without Margaret's approval. A midnight blue gown that was elegant but daring, with a cut that highlighted her curves. Not a "good wife" dress. A dress for a woman who knew her worth.

"This one," Alina said in a stronger voice. "If this is my last appearance, I'll do it my way."

Emma smiled—a proud smile. "That's my girl."

At five in the afternoon, after picking up Daniel Jr. from school, Alina stood in front of the mirror. The midnight blue gown fit perfectly, her hair styled in soft waves falling on her shoulders, makeup bolder than usual with a statement red lipstick.

She looked different. Not the perfect, muted Mrs. Daniel Blackwood. But Alina Hayes—the woman she'd forgotten for five years.

A knock at the door. "Mama? Can I come in?"

"Come in, sweetheart."

Daniel Jr. entered in his little tuxedo that Mrs. Helen had already straightened. His brown eyes widened seeing Alina.

"Mama looks so beautiful!" Junior ran to hug her. "Like a princess!"

Alina knelt down, hugging the child tightly. "Junior looks so handsome too. Like a little prince."

"At the party, Papa will definitely say Mama is beautiful!" Junior smiled innocently. "Then Papa and Mama will dance like on TV!"

Alina's heart sank. How could she tell this child that tonight might be the last time they'd be a "family"?

"Junior, sweetheart..." Alina stroked the child's cheek. "Tonight there will be a lot of people. And there might be things that will confuse Junior. But Mama wants Junior to remember—whatever happens, Mama loves Junior. Always."

Junior looked at her with innocent eyes. "Why is Mama talking sadly?"

"Mama's not sad. Mama just wants to make sure Junior knows."

A louder knock at the door. Without waiting for an answer, the door opened and Daniel entered—stopping when he saw Alina.

For a few seconds, the man just stared. There was something in his eyes—surprise? Appreciation? But it quickly disappeared, replaced by the cold mask he usually wore.

"We need to leave in fifteen minutes," Daniel said, his voice formal. "Mom is already waiting at the venue."

"Papa! Look at Mama! Mama's beautiful, right?" Junior jumped up and down.

Daniel glanced at Alina briefly. "Yes. Beautiful."

Two words without emotion. Like complimenting furniture.

Alina stood, taking her clutch. "I'm ready."

Daniel still stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets—a gesture showing he was uncomfortable.

"Alina, about this morning... we can talk after this event—"

"There's nothing left to talk about, Daniel." Alina walked past him toward the door. "Come on, Junior. Time to go."

Daniel stared at Alina's back—a gaze that lasted longer than usual. In his hand was a small velvet box he hadn't managed to give.

The black Rolls Royce glided smoothly through the streets toward the Plaza Hotel where the gala dinner was being held. Alina sat in the back with Junior, who was excitedly looking out the window, while Daniel sat in front—as usual, separate.

"Mama, is this party like Cinderella's?" Junior asked with sparkling eyes.

"Something like that, sweetheart."

"Then Mama and Papa will dance? Can I watch?"

Alina smiled despite her aching heart. "We'll see later, okay?"

Through the rearview mirror, Alina could see Daniel watching her. But as soon as their eyes met, the man looked away—as usual.

The car stopped in front of the Plaza Hotel's red carpet. Camera flashes immediately attacked—dozens of photographers shouting, reporters yelling questions.

Daniel got out first, buttoning his tuxedo perfectly. Then he opened the door for Alina, extending his hand in a gesture that looked gentlemanly for the cameras.

"Smile," Daniel whispered as Alina took his hand. "We have to look united."

United. An ironic word for a marriage already fractured.

Alina smiled—the perfect smile she'd practiced for five years. Junior stood between them, holding both his parents' hands, not knowing this little family would soon be broken.

"Mr. Blackwood! Is it true Miss Sterling will be attending tonight?"

"Mrs. Blackwood! How do you feel about meeting your husband's ex-wife?"

"Is this a Blackwood family reunion?"

Questions were shouted from all directions. Daniel didn't answer, only escorted Alina and Junior inside with a hand on Alina's lower back—a touch that felt cold despite looking intimate for the cameras.

The Plaza Hotel ballroom had been transformed into something from a fairytale. Large crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, tables decorated with white and gold rose centerpieces, a live orchestra playing classical music in the corner of the room.

Hundreds of guests—elite from the worlds of business, politics, entertainment—had already gathered with champagne in hand, whispering with eyes that occasionally glanced toward the entrance.

Waiting for drama.

"Daniel! Alina!"

Margaret Blackwood walked over in an expensive silver gown and a smile that didn't reach her eyes. The woman hugged Daniel warmly, then her eyes widened seeing Alina's appearance.

"A blue gown?"

Margaret's tone was cold, piercing. Her eyes scanned Alina from top to bottom with a sharp, judging gaze. Then she stepped closer, whispering low enough that only Alina could hear.

"I told you navy or black. This is too flashy. Too attention-seeking. You know tonight isn't about you, right?"

Alina looked at Margaret calmly—for the first time, unafraid. "I know exactly who tonight is about, Margaret."

Margaret's eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, she turned and bent to kiss Junior's cheek.

"Junior, darling! You look so handsome!"

"Thank you, Grandma!"

Margaret straightened, refocusing on Daniel with a smile that immediately appeared—as if the sharp conversation with Alina had never happened.

"Clarissa's already here. She's on the east balcony, waiting for the right moment to enter. I've arranged everything—photographers, seating, even the speech for later."

Speech. Of course there was a speech. Margaret wouldn't miss the opportunity to publicly welcome Clarissa back.

"And you, Alina," Margaret looked at her with an assessing gaze. "That gown is a bold choice. I hope you know how to behave tonight. No drama. No scenes. We have to show that the Blackwood family is solid."

"I understand," Alina answered in a calm voice.

"Good." Margaret turned to Daniel. "We'll start in ten minutes. Make sure Junior is ready to meet his mother."

Margaret left with an authoritative stride, leaving an awkward silence.

"Whose mother, Papa?" Junior looked at his father in confusion.

Daniel froze. He glanced at Alina—a look asking for help.

But Alina was tired of saving him.

"Papa will explain later, Junior," Alina said quietly. "Mama wants to get some champagne."

Alina walked toward the bar, leaving Daniel with a dilemma he'd created himself.

At the bar, Alina ordered champagne. Beside her, Mrs. Tanzil and Mrs. Lim—two socialite women who wouldn't miss a chance to gossip—stood with smiles like predators smelling blood.

"Mrs. Blackwood," Mrs. Tanzil greeted sweetly. "You look different tonight. Bold."

"Thank you."

"Must be nervous, right?" Mrs. Lim added. "Meeting Clarissa Sterling. I mean, she's a legend. Supermodel. And she and Daniel used to be so passionate."

Alina took her champagne with a steady hand. "I'm not nervous, Mrs. Lim."

"Really?" Mrs. Tanzil looked at her with probing eyes. "Because if I were in your position—a second wife having to meet the first wife everyone loves—I'd be very nervous."

"Maybe because I'm not you." Alina sipped her champagne. "Excuse me."

She walked away before the two women could throw more barbed comments. But Alina could hear their whispers.

"She's acting strong, but she must be falling apart inside."

"Poor thing. Doesn't know her place."

Alina stood in the corner of the ballroom, holding champagne but not drinking anymore. She watched Daniel talking with some business associates, Junior beside him looking bored.

This had been her life for five years. Standing on the sidelines, watching Daniel from afar, always alone in the midst of crowds.

But after tonight, she would be free.