EPISODE TEN
ALTHEA
The resort garden was buzzing, a gentle hum of voices and laughter blending with the soft rustle of leaves in the evening breeze.
The wedding cake tasting was supposed to be a light, celebratory activity—a chance to relax, enjoy a few sweet bites, and imagine Aria’s big day.
Instead, it felt like stepping into a battlefield.
I maneuvered around the tables with Aria and Mira at my sides.
The sun cast a warm glow on everyone, highlighting the pastel dresses, crisp suits, and the meticulously arranged cakes that looked almost too perfect to eat.
A chocolate ganache, vanilla sponge layered with cream, and tropical fruit temptations—all lined up like soldiers on display.
“Try a little of everything,” Mira whispered, nudging me with her elbow.
Her curls bounced with the movement.
“Or just eat for two. Your choice.”
I chuckled softly, grateful for her attempt at levity.
“I’ll stick to one or two. Don’t want to make the girls jealous.”
Aria, always the mother hen even on days that weren’t hers, smiled at me warmly.
“Don’t worry, Thea. Eat what you like. Enjoy the moment.”
I nodded, letting their presence ground me, because this night was supposed to be about them—my friends—and I wasn’t about to let anyone ruin it.
Just then, a familiar voice made me stiffen slightly.
“Althea…”
I turned, and there he was.
Not Elias himself, but someone whose calm authority carried weight—Elias’ father.
Tall, distinguished, with salt-and-pepper hair and warm eyes that immediately softened the tension around him.
He stepped closer, voice low so only I could hear.
“You’ve grown into yourself,” he said.
“It’s… nice to see.”
I swallowed, unsure whether to smile or keep my guard up.
“Thank you, sir. It’s… been a while.”
He nodded, a faint look of sadness crossing his face.
“Too long. Elias hasn’t been the same since you left. I see it in him… in how he moves through life, how he… pulls back. You’re part of him, whether he wants to admit it or not.”
My chest tightened.
The pain I had tried to bury for years rose up unbidden.
“I… I didn’t mean to hurt him. I tried to… I thought I was doing the right thing.”
He placed a hand briefly on my shoulder, a comforting weight.
“You were. But sometimes the heart doesn’t follow the plan. Keep doing what you’re doing—being yourself, caring for others. You’ll see him again in ways you didn’t expect.”
I nodded, blinking rapidly to keep the emotions at bay.
“Thank you. That… means a lot.”
With a polite bow, I excused myself, glancing toward Aria and Mira.
My friends’ smiles reminded me why I was here.
For them.
I wouldn’t let the past—or anyone else—steal that from me.
I moved toward the cake tasting, attempting to focus, but the subtle tension of Elias’ family presence lingered.
And then… she appeared.
Mrs. Laurent.
Elias’ mother.
The sunlight gleamed off her pearls, the sharp tailoring of her dress a stark contrast to the soft pastels around her.
Her gaze found me immediately, and I felt the familiar prickling unease she always brought.
“Althea,” she said, her voice honeyed but laced with venom.
“I hope you’re enjoying the cakes?”
“Yes, Mrs. Laurent. They’re beautiful.” I kept my tone calm, careful.
She raised a perfectly arched brow.
“I prefer the tropical flavor myself. It’s… elegant, sophisticated. Not everyone has the palate for it, of course.”
I paused, then replied carefully, “I think most people would prefer the vanilla and chocolate. It’s… classic, approachable. The flavors make it enjoyable for everyone.”
Her expression shifted instantly, the faintest curl of contempt at the corner of her lips.
“Of course. That’s what I feared. You come from… a simple background. Lowly, even. And this—your taste—it shows. What else could I expect?”
I felt my jaw tighten, but I refused to shrink.
My voice rose, calm but strong.
“Not everything has to be about class or elegance. Respect earns respect, Mrs. Laurent. Sometimes, giving people dignity—treating them with kindness—is what makes them remember you, and that respect comes back to you. That’s how people honor each other.”
The garden went quiet.
Whispers rippled through the crowd as people processed my words.
I caught Aria’s wide-eyed approval, Mira’s grin, and even the subtle nod of Elias’ father, whose gaze held a warmth that bolstered my courage.
Mrs. Laurent froze, the thin smile she had worn now slipping into something tighter, more controlled.
“Really,” she said, her voice sharp, “you dare…”
Before she could finish, Aria stepped forward, hands lightly resting on my shoulders.
“Exactly. I completely agree with her.”
Ryan, standing beside Aria, leaned forward with a grin that made everyone’s tension break a little.
“And besides,” he said smoothly, “happy wife, happy life.”
The guests laughed.
Even a few of the staff chuckled under their breath.
Mrs. Laurent’s composure faltered, the shock of being publicly contradicted hitting her squarely.
“You—” she began, voice rising, but she faltered, trying to regain control.
Lucia, never missing a beat, stepped closer to me, voice soft but poisonous.
“Careful, Althea. You don’t want to make enemies where you don’t need them.”
Mira, standing just behind me, smirked.
“Oh, Lulu Lemon,” she mocked in a sing-song tone, referencing yesterday’s balcony incident.
“Still can’t handle a little fire, huh?”
Lucian chuckled, leaning casually against the table.
“I just love it when she spits fire. Makes my day.”
I exhaled softly, letting my chest relax for the first time in what felt like hours.
The tension had not entirely lifted, but the small army of friends, allies, and observant strangers gave me courage.
Mrs. Laurent’s face flushed a sharp red, her lips pressed tightly together.
She looked like she wanted to launch another verbal attack, but the laughter, the supportive glances, the unexpected camaraderie around me—all of it caught her off guard.
She turned abruptly, walking away with a tight grip on her purse, muttering under her breath as she disappeared from view.
I let myself breathe, finally.
I turned slightly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and found Aria giving me a proud, reassuring smile.
Mira’s fist pumped in the air silently, mouth twisted into a triumphant grin.
Even Elias’ father gave me a small nod from across the table.
“Nicely done,” Aria whispered, lightly squeezing my arm.
“You handled that beautifully.”
Mira laughed softly.
“And he—” she jerked her head toward Lucian, who had just murmured under his breath again—“loved every second of it.”
“I did,” Lucian admitted, still grinning.
“Couldn’t look away.”
Then came Lucia’s glare.
She approached again, eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line.
I could see the wheels turning in her mind.
She was planning something, plotting her next move, and she wanted me to notice.
“Careful, Althea,” she said again, her tone sharper this time.
“Not everyone here will be so forgiving.”
Mira rolled her eyes.
“Oh, Lulu Lemon, get over yourself. Yesterday was a taste of what’s coming, and you still think you’re in control?”
Lucian chuckled.
“She spits fire, Lucia. Sit back and watch—it’s beautiful.”
I smiled faintly, a surge of relief and triumph swelling in my chest.
The storm hadn’t passed, not entirely.
There were still battles to fight, provocations to withstand.
But tonight, in this moment, I was reminded of why I was here: for Aria, for my friends, for myself.
And I would not allow anyone—mother, ex-girlfriend, or anyone else—to take that away from me.
The garden shimmered in the golden evening light, laughter and murmurs carrying softly on the breeze.
Somewhere in the crowd, Elias’ presence lingered, silent but felt.
I could almost hear his thoughts through the tension that always seemed to connect us.
And for the first time in hours, I felt steady.
I had taken my stand.
And I knew, deep down, this was only the beginning.
ELIAS