Page 106 of The Ring
“And also humble,” I quip.
Benedict’s smile grows as he studies me for a moment, his expression turning thoughtful. “Friends?” Relief washes over me. I had feared this meeting would end with asee you never.
“Friends,” I agree.
Chapter 64
Cornelia
Ilove clothes, I love fashion, but I especially love diamonds, and there’s no better place to wear them than at a gala.
The St. Thomas Hospital fundraising gala is an event I attend every year. My family is one of its largest donors, as well as to many other hospitals around the world. This year, they added a silent auction, and I’m deeply interested in acquiring some pieces, particularly a vintage Victorian necklace with blue, yellow, and purple sapphires, and a Tiffany & Co. choker adorned with diamonds and pearls.
Initially, I considered skipping the event and asking Anthony to bid on my behalf, but he insisted that if I wanted something, I should attend myself, as he wasn’t going to acquire it for me. It’s his way of encouraging me to get out of the house. I haven’t gone out much after everything that’s happened. But if anything can entice me to leave the house, it’s jewellery.
So here I am, in the Savoy ballroom, wearing a long black strapless dress by Zuhair Murad, black Louboutin pumps, and a diamond necklace from Chanel’s High Jewellery Tweed Collection, along with matching earrings and cocktail rings—one on my right middle finger and another on my left index finger. I’m not wearing my usual ring tonight, as it would clash with the silver-tone jewellery.
“I’m going to check on the auction again,” I tell my brother, who is engrossed in a business discussion with a group of men.
I’ve spent most of the evening at his side. I would usually be with Annabelle or someone from The Heptad Society, but most had other commitments. Only Laurie and TJ are here, and since I’m trying to avoid running into the she-devil, I’m avoiding them, too.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Anthony asks. He tries to hide it, but I can see the worry on his face.
I hate that look—the one that shows his fear that I might crumble. It makes me feel as though I might. But I get it. I’ve gone from having zero breakups to two in less than a year. Three, if you count Robert, but I don’t.
The breakup with TJ, even after all this time, still feels like an open wound—at this point, it’s infected. And while my breakup with Benedict was less tumultuous, I miss having him around all the time, his humour, and the routine we had. And to top it all off, I’m hardly the poster child for mental stability.
“I think I can find the way myself.” There’s a slight bite in my voice. He catches it. I can tell by the pointed look he gives me. I quickly add, “But thanks.”
I’ve been a bit moody with him lately. He thinks he’s smarter than I am, and in many ways, he is. But I know the things he does when he’s worried that he thinks I don’t notice. He’s been doing them more often lately, like watching how much I eat, trying to have more meals together, accidentally touching the back of my hand, or looking at it as if it might suddenly turn red and raw. To his defence, they were two days ago, but still.
He nods, and I make my way to the adjacent room of the ballroom where the silent auction is being held.
As I walk, a server with a tray passes me, and I take a champagne flute from it. I enter the adjacent room and take a slow turn around it. The room is much smaller than the ballroom, but there’s plenty of space.
The auction pieces are displayed in glass cases, each with a plaque describing it. For each case, there’s a sheet for manual bidding. They should modernise the process with a QR code, like I’ve seen at other silent auctions, but to each their own.
A few people are browsing the pieces, though fewer than at the start of the night. The room is filled with paintings, photographs, and antiques, but my interest lies elsewhere. I check that I’m still the top bidder on the jewellery pieces that caught my eye, then wander a little longer. I’m not exactly worried. My bids are quite high, but it’s always good to check.
Mostly, I wanted an excuse to step away from the conversation my brother was having. Business talk suffocates me. I have to be in a certain mood to tolerate it, and right now, I’m not. My current mood is more along the lines of—if someone outbids me at the last minute, I’ll fight them. Maybe we can turn this event into a charity boxing match instead.
I finish my champagne and take one last turn around the room, hoping to give my brother enough time to conclude his conversation. As I exit, I spot a server and hand over my empty glass, intending to grab another one, but he’s out of champagne. Then I hear a voice I’d recognise anywhere, even at the loudest concert.
“You just don’t understand?—”
TJ’s father cut him off. “I do understand. You’re wasting your potential.”
They’re positioned behind me, near the corner of the room. They weren’t there when I entered the adjacent room, as Ipassed through and didn’t see them. So, their conversation must have started recently. I’d wager they haven’t been talking for more than two minutes.
Since TJ graduated and decided not to go to college, he and his father haven’t been able to talk for more than five minutes without fighting. TJ tries to avoid him, but sometimes his father corners him at events like this, where TJ refrains from snapping.
When we used to date, and he had the misfortune of running into his father, I always acted as a buffer. Probably one of the three main reasons his father hates me.
The second one is that he thinks I enabled TJ. But I didn’t—I just, unlike him, understood that when you push someone to do something they don’t want to, you usually get one of two outcomes. One: they succumb to the pressure, do what they’re pushed to do, but end up resenting the person who made them. Or two: they rebel against it.
TJ’s father should be happy that TJ chose the latter, because if he hadn’t, their relationship would probably never be salvageable. Even now, with all the cracks, I think one day they can mend it.
The other reason is that he believes TJ lost momentum because of me, since I was still at boarding school in Switzerland, and TJ didn’t want to be away from me. Throughout my senior year, he bought a flat in London with West, though he practically lived in Switzerland. But that was never the problem. We actually talked about it when he considered going to the University of Edinburgh. If TJ had wanted to live in London or any other city full-time for college, we would have made long distance work.
