Her Perfect Act
MARY’S POV:
“Stop it?” Beatrice shouted back, her voice filling up every corner of the room. Her cheeks were bright red with anger, and her eyes were burning with rage. “You think this is embarrassing for you? When you lied to your wife, when you and your useless deadbeat father treated the woman who supported this whole family like garbage, you did not feel a bit of shame! But now that you are getting caught, suddenly you care about public places?”
The words hit him right in the chest like a physical blow. I watched his face turn completely pale, all the remaining color leaving his lips. He looked like he had been slapped across the face with a truth he could not argue against. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again when no words
came out.
“Mother, please list-”
“Do not you dare call me your mother!” She took a big step toward him, raising the heavy handbag over her shoulder once again. The leather was old and worn, the same brown bag she had carried over her arm for years. It was the bag she used to keep her house keys, her small mirror, and her wallet in. Right now, it was a weapon she was using against her own son because he had broken her heart. “I raised you to be a good man! I taught you to tell the truth, to stay faithful to your wife, and to do the right thing! Look at what you have turned into! Look at yourself!”
Vesper’s face was still wet, tears dripping down her chin onto the hospital gown. She turned her head toward Beatrice with a deeply hurt expression, holding one hand over her chest as if her heart was breaking inside her.
“Is this the kind of stuff Mary has been telling you about us?” she asked in a tiny, breaking voice. “Is this what she said about what Alistair and I have been doing?”
Beatrice turned around slowly and looked down at her. Her expression went completely cold and flat. I watched her look over Vesper’s teary face, her trembling shoulders, and her dramatic posture in the bed. She saw right through it. I could tell by the way her shoulders dropped.
“Mary has not said a single word to me,” Beatrice said, her tone icy and sharp. “I have two working eyes in my head. I can see what is happening right in front of me. I am watching my son throw away his entire life for a woman who cannot even sit up in a bed without putting on a giant show for everyone.”
Vesper flinched backward as if she had been slapped across the mouth. She pulled her hand tighter against her chest, her fingers clutching at the thin blue cotton of her gown. The timing of the gesture was so perfect, so obviously rehearsed, that I almost felt like clapping for her.
“We are not scared of what anyone thinks of us,” Vesper said, her voice shaking as she looked up at Beatrice. “We do not have anything to hide, and we have not done anything wrong at all. But we do not want you to misunderstand us. Alistair is just so worried that his own mother will believe false things about him. Please do not let other people turn your mind against him.”
Every single word coming out of her mouth was calculated to make her look like a helpless victim and
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Hor Perfect Act
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make me look like a bitter, lying wife. She was trying her hardest to turn Beatrice against me, wanting her to believe that I was the one spreading dirty rumors and causing trouble. She wanted to look like an innocent young woman who was just trying to protect a good man from a bitter marriage.
I stood near the door frame and watched her acting with a cold, calm feeling inside my chest.
She was very good at it. I had to give her credit for that much. She knew exactly how to make her voice tremble, how to make her eyes look big and teary, and how to get men to feel sorry for her. She had spent years perfecting the art of playing the fragile victim whenever things got uncomfortable. It was a skill that had worked for her for a long time, and it had worked on my husband better than anyone else.
Beatrice was not falling for a single second of it.
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