“You are crude.” I made sure I had cleaned up as much as I could before sneaking out of the washroom.
“Sorry.” I murmured, sliding on the cool leather seat and glancing around the table to see Emma and Caleb sharing a small heart-shaped chocolate cake while Summer wriggled her brows at me.
“Quit it.”
“I didn’t even say anything!” She batted her lashes, trying to act innocent.
“We all saw a possessive, demanding, and totally whipped sugar daddy boyfriend run after you when you went to the washroom.” Emma smiled at me, looking over my shoulder where I was sure James was seated for his ‘meeting.’ Summer even waved at him, which made me want to crawl underneath the table and hide forever.
“I still can’t believe he is… you know.” Caleb shrugged, taking a sip of champagne. He had planned the dinner in the three Michelin star restaurant. They both had made up recently, and he had woken up Emma with cheesy music blasting through her backyard and asked her out. Even though I didn’t entirely disapprove of him, I didn’t understand their relationship.
“If you had asked me a year ago that James would be my boyfriend, I’d have laughed at you… but here we are.” I smiled, sneaking a glance over my shoulder to see him watching me. Butterflies swarmed in my stomach.
“He even gave me a pretty birthday gift.” Emma said, reminding me how he had gifted her a set of cooking books because he loved to diss at her. I didn’t understand their animosity, either.
“Do you have any plans fo—”
Emma’s phone rang, and I frowned when her expression became cold and heartless. It was the same expression she gave to everyone who didn’t know her. Her tone changed when she picked up the phone.
“Who do you think called her?” Summer asked when she walked away from the table, speaking quietly.
“Who else?” Caleb stared at her back and glanced at us. “Her mom.”
When Emma didn’t come back to finish the dessert with her boyfriend after a few minutes, we all grew worried. My stomach was in knots when I saw her pale face. She was clutching the phone in her hand. The phone call had ended, yet her stony expression remained.
“Em? Is everything okay?”
Her eyes drifted from the marble floors to us.
“My mother... she’s dead.”