‘Fight, let them fight!’ Vanessa thought.

But a fight was out of the question. Theodore eyed Phoebe with a narrowed gaze and coldly asked, “What’s your problem?”

Phoebe replied, “I’m just too full.”

Phoebe pushed her chair back and turned around only to see Vanessa standing at the dining room entrance, offering them a half-smile that hid a sneer.

As Phoebe passed by Vanessa, she paused and said, in a voice low enough for only the two of them to hear, “Miss Fitzroy, your shameless behavior is quite the eye-opener.” Vanessa’s cheeks flushed, burning with embarrassment.

Phoebe walked away.

Then Theodore’s eyes fell on Vanessa, and he noticed the imprint of a slap on her face, which seemed even more evident than before, her cheeks reddening as if about to bleed. “Vanessa, what’s wrong?”

Vanessa snapped back to reality, looking at Theodore, she shook her head gently. “No, I’m fine… just not very hungry.”

“Come on, have something to eat. You’ve been working all night and barely touched your food,” Theodore urged.

Vanessa walked into the dining room and took a seat beside Mrs. Reynolds.

Mrs. Reynolds gave her a quick glance, clearly oblivious to the earlier under-the-table drama, and served Vanessa some food. “Eat up, dear,” she insisted.

Vanessa picked up her fork but her appetite had vanished. This meal was truly distressing!

Setting down her fork, she said, “Aunt, I’m really full. Please, go ahead without me.”

Mrs. Reynolds glanced at Vanessa’s nearly untouched plate with concern, noting the swelling on one side of her face.

“Vanessa, who did this to your face? They sure had a heavy hand,” she exclaimed.

Vanessa turned her head to conceal the bruise, “Oh, it’s nothing, just bumped into something by accident.”

“Well, that’s quite a bump, you’ve got a swollen face there. You have to be more careful, especially since you’re such a big star now. If the paparazzi got a photo, who knows what kind of stories they’d come up with,” Mrs. Reynolds chattered. Vanessa couldn’t tell if Mrs. Reynolds was genuinely concerned or just nosy. She responded with a noncommittal, “Yeah.”

“Anyway, you should put some ice on that later. Such a pretty face shouldn’t be swollen like that,” Mrs. Reynolds advised.

“Sure,” Vanessa replied, turning her head away once more.

She could use the slap mark on her face to gain sympathy from Theodore but wasn’t keen on being pitied by Mrs. Reynolds.

Mrs. Reynolds wasn’t one to dwell on uncomfortable topics. After expressing her concern, she went back to her own meal, taking a sip of the creamy potato soup that Theodore couldn’t stop praising.

Frowning slightly, the soup was too salty and rich for her taste; not her cup of tea. She put the bowl aside and took a sip of water, washing away the lingering greasy taste.

After finishing the meal, the rain outside had lightened, and the driver called to say he was waiting in the underground parking lot.

Phoebe was watching TV in the living room. Seeing Mrs. Reynolds getting ready to leave, she quickly stood up, “Mom, with the rain pouring like this, why don’t you stay over tonight?”

Mrs. Reynolds grabbed her belongings and headed for the foyer, “I never sleep well in a different bed, it’s fine. The driver is waiting downstairs. I’ve told him to drive slowly.”

“I’ll walk you down,” Phoebe offered, hurrying over.

“No need to fuss, dear. You’ve had a long day too. Get some rest,” Mrs. Reynolds said as she slipped on her shoes.

Still, Phoebe insisted on accompanying her, slipping into a pair of white sneakers and following Mrs. Reynolds out the door.

Stepping into the elevator, Mrs. Reynolds grumbled, “I told you not to see me off, but you wouldn’t listen. Don’t you see how Vanessa still feels about Theodore?”

‘Is it naivety or sheer obliviousness? Phoebe knows well enough Vanessa’s lingering feelings for Theodore, yet she brazenly leaves Vanessa and Theodore alone at home, risking the rekindling of past flames.’ Mrs. Reynolds thought.

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