“Leilani Peters, you vicious woman!” Vanessa shrieks, “You know Waylen designed the dress for you, and you gave it to her deliberately to upset him and hurt her!”
“Anthony, ” do something!” Katherine pleads, “Waylen is pissed off, and he just sent a servant to tell us that he doesn’t want Janetta to wear any clothes at the party. She’s still a v.i.r.g.i.n. She’ll never attract a suitable man if she exposes herself like this!”
“Mom, I won’t go out like this,” Janetta m.o.a.ns, “I’d rather die.”
“Leilani, can you put in a few words for Janetta?” Anthony asks, “She’s your sister after all, and she can’t go out in front of all these important people without clothes. Remember, any shame and scandal on the Peters reflect on you as well.”
Leilani looks at Janetta’s puffy face in shock. Though Waylen has often been cruel, she can’t believe he’d hit a woman over a dress like this. She takes a deep breath and looks from face to face.
“Calm down, you all,” she said evenly, “I’ll take care of it.”
“How do you plan to do that?” Janetta snaps, “I’m already beaten up, and I don’t want him to punish me more if you make him angrier.
“Fine then,” Leilani says, “I’m married to a Bamford, and I carry the Bamford name. The Peters’ name means nothing to me.”
Leilani pretends to leave. She walks with deliberate slowness as she waits for someone to stop her.
“Shush, Janetta, don’t say anything,” Anthony commands, “Leilani, say something nice to Waylen and smooth this whole thing over.”
Janetta stops talking. She wonders what could possibly be worse than exposing herself in public. Even though Waylen has hit her and insulted her, she hopes the situation can be fixed. In spite of his behavior, she still has a soft spot in her heart for him.
“He seemed so genuine when he complimented my beauty,” she thinks, “Maybe he’s just mad that I wore the dress without asking his permission. Maybe this can all be fixed.”
“Go inside and put something on,” Leilani advises her sister.
Janetta refuses on the ground that it might make Waylen angrier, bu she does wrap the bath towel around herself. Leilani sighs and climbs the stairs to the third floor. The door to the dressing room is closed, but she can almost sense Waylen’s anger through the wood.
She raises her hand to knock, but there is no answer. She takes a deep breath walks in. The thick smell of alcohol fills her nose.
Waylen leans against on the couch, feeling tired and drunk. He loosens the collar on his shirt and undoes the top buttons, revealing his strong, tan chest. He gazes at Leilani like a panther targeting its prey. They stare each other down for a moment, but Leilani talks first.
“I gave her the dress,” she said simply.
She can’t tell him the reason she gave Janetta the dress: Waylen would be furious to hear about Charles’ ring.
“Did you hear me?” she asks.
Waylen’s eyes are dark as he responds, “I know.”
“Then why did you slap her?” Leilani asks in confusion, “Why couldn’t you allow her to wear the dress. If it was so important you should be mad at me, not her.”
“I couldn’t bear that,” Waylen whispers, almost to himself.
Leilani wonders if the frantic beat of her heart is audible. For a brief second, she sees something in her eyes that makes her throat feel thick with emotion.
“Is this how he looks at Diana?” she wonders, “I wonder if he’s lied so much about our relationship, he’s started to believe his own story.”
Leilani takes a deep breath and calms down.
“It’s only a dress,” she says, “Why are you so upset?”
“Only a dress?” Waylen sneers.
Waylen’s smile turns colder and spookier.
“Of course, Leilani sees it as nothing more than a dress,” he thinks bitterly, “She doesn’t have a single tender feeling for me. I tried to tell her that I don’t want to lose her, that I can’t bear the divorce, but she shot me down. She even gave the dress to her hated half-sister.”
It feels like she’s stuck a dagger in his heart, and he wonders if she’ll ever stop twisting it and tormenting him. A maid enters the dressing room with a bottle, and an ice bucket, and a glass filled with cold whiskey stones. Waylen takes the whiskey and pours a generous amount into the class. The dim light of the room reflects the ice in the bucket and mirrors the steely glint in Waylen’s eyes.
Leilani bites her lower lip and straightens her back. She doesn’t want to show weakness to Waylen, but she knows she can’t allow Janetta to remain n.a.k.e.d.
“Didn’t you give me that dress?” she asks, “I can’t dispose of a gift as I like? I don’t understand.”
“No, you can’t,” he growls, “You can take it or reject it, but you can’t give it to someone else.”
Leilani wants to roll her eyes.
“Waylen is so full of himself,” she thinks, “He’s telling me that I can only accept or reject his gifts like they’re too precious for anyone else to touch. Though, honestly, I doubt he’d accept a rejection.”
Leilani glares at him, “You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m always like this,” Waylen says with an edge of irony, “Hadn’t you noticed?”
Leilani really wants to slam the door and leave him to his drunken stupor, but Janetta’s sobbing seems to come through the door. She bites her lip and clenches her fist.
“I’m sorry for giving your gift away,” she says, “How about I make it up to you? What do you want?”
“Make it up to me how?” Waylen asks.
“However you say,” Leilani answers.
Leilani stares coldly at Waylen coldly. She expects him to ask her to grovel or else indulge his seemingly boundless desire. Waylen drains the glass of whiskey and pours another. The whiskey stones clink coldly against the crystal.
Suddenly Waylen gets up and approaches her. His tall figure seems to block the light and cast a shadow on Leilani. In the dimness of the room, his face looks marble and cold. He places his band against the door over her head and bends down to her face. Leilani closes her eyes and braces herself for what’s going to happen next.
“I want a gift,” he breathes against her ear.
The smell of alcohol on his breath makes her want to gag. She racked her brain trying to figure out what he could possibly want from her. She feels her blood run cold with a realization: the only thing he wants from her is a child.
“What kind of a gift?” she asks, trying to keep her voice calm, “A child?”
Waylen forces a bitter smile. His voice sounds deep and slightly slurred, “I want a gift from you on March 27th, your birthday.”
“My birthday? You want a present from me on my birthday?” Leilani asks incredulously, “Shouldn’t you be giving me the gift on my birthday?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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