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“Well, that’s done,” ‘Liv said as we stopped at the side of the tent, out of view of most of the other guests. Orlando was nowhere to be seen. There were a few other people near us, all lighting up cigarettes, but they weren’t paying any attention.

“Olivia, I have something I need to tell you,” I hissed, trying to be as quiet as possible. I suspected that if Orlando heard my voice, he’d know who I was instantly. It’s kind of hard to forget the voice that told you off only the night before.

“Peyton, are you okay?” She looked alarmed, her cigarette dangling from her lips, forgotten. “You’re not going to pass out or throw up or anything, are you?”

“No, nothing like that,” I said quickly. I launched into a short version of what had been happening with Orlando, our conversations, seeing him in the hospital, our row the night before, everything. When I was finished, I was practically panting.

“I have to get out of here,” I said, glancing around the side of the tent. I still couldn’t see him. “‘Liv, if he sees me, I’m screwed.”

“He doesn’t know who Peyton Grant is, remember?” she said, but I could see the excitement in her eyes. She thought this was fun, the little wench. “He wouldn’t know you were Dominique Marceaux if he tripped over you. Take a deep breath, stay calm, and we’ll just try to stay away from him as much as possible.”

“I can’t handle it if he cringes away from me again,” I said sadly, shaking my head as I looked down at myself. “A dress and some make-up doesn’t take away the God-awful scars that are still very much visible. If he reacted that way once, what’s to say he won’t do it again?”

“You’re over-reacting,” Olivia sighed, lighting her cigarette finally. “You might be surprised.”

I spent the next hour or so looking around nervously, waiting for him to appear magically at my side, with a grossed out look on his face. Thankfully, that didn’t happen. Olivia actually knew some of the other guests, so I stood quietly with her as she talked with them. My mother and Garret flittered around, thanking people for coming, when they could untangle themselves from each other long enough to form a proper sentence. Every time they came near me, I shifted so they wouldn’t see me. This whole affair was turning into one big game of Hide and Seek.

When dinner was announced, I followed the crowd into the house, to the enormous dining room that had been furnished with fifteen long, narrow tables, covered in that hideous peach colour my mother was so fond of. There were peach and cream flowers at measured points along the tables, with vanilla-scented candles spaced between them. The aroma in the air was enough to make me want to gag, even though I enjoyed vanilla candles. This many in one room was just too much.

To my surprise, we were seated fairly close to the head table. I’d have thought my mother would want to hide her troll of a daughter in the back of the room, as far from her as possible. But then, it wouldn’t look very good if she publicly shunned her own kid, no matter how much she did it in private. I sighed as Olivia and I sat down.

Much to my absolute horror, Orlando was seated only one table away, facing directly at me. I couldn’t very well slink down in my seat without looking like an idiot, so I turned away from him, toward Olivia, as though to make conversation. I felt my face heat up and my eyes welled with tears. I only hoped my hair was enough to cover my scars from that angle.

“You okay?” ‘Liv asked as she folded her napkin in her lap. “Remember, we only have to be here another hour, two at the most, and then we can leave and pretend it never happened, all right?”

“He’s right there,” I hissed, trying to keep my voice down. “Right across from us, at the next table.”

She looked up, spotted Orlando, smiled, and looked back down at me. “He certainly is,” she said, and her grin told me she’d caught his gaze. “He’s a good looking one, isn’t he?”

“Not helping,” I said as I turned back toward the table and took a sip from the water glass a server had set in front of me. I tried not to look up as I set the glass back down, but curiosity got the better of me, and I couldn’t help it.

Sure enough, his dark brown eyes were pointed straight at me, a curious expression on his face, like he recognized me, but couldn’t remember where from. My eyes widened a bit before I looked away.

“He’s fucking staring over here,” I whispered, trying to stop myself from shaking. “I have to leave, Olivia, I can’t sit here. Look at his face, he knows he’s seen me before.”

“Big deal,” she shrugged, accepting some champagne from a passing server. “If he comes over, we’ll deal with it. If he doesn’t, you don’t have to worry about it. Relax, having Orlando Bloom looking at you isn’t the end of the world, you know.”

“Have you heard nothing I’ve said to you today?” I asked, getting frustrated with her flip attitude about this. “He knows me as two different people, remember? The one he sees now is the charity case he almost ran from at the hospital, and the other one is someone he couldn’t pick out of a crowd, unless he hears her voice. Either way, I’m fucked.”

“Seriously, you need to calm down,” Olivia said, taking my warm hand in her cold one. “Peyton, look at me.” I looked up from the spot I’d been staring at on the table cloth. “We’re going to eat, raise a glass to your banshee of a mother, then get the hell out of here. By the time dinner is over, he’ll have forgotten you’re over here, and it will be as though it never happened. Trust me, in the grand scheme of things, seeing some woman he vaguely recognizes isn’t going to register very much in his mind. You have nothing to get so stressed over.”

I sat back in my chair and mulled over her words as I toyed with the stem of my water glass. What she’d said was true, and I knew it. He met so many people in his life, he wasn’t going to take the time to reacquaint himself with every one that he thought he recognized from somewhere. Though that made me feel quite insignificant, it also made me feel safer, like there was suddenly a wall around me that he wouldn’t dare try to penetrate. I felt my rigid body begin to relax a bit.

My mother and Garret made their way to the head table with a trail of bridesmaids and groomsmen following them a few minutes later. Everyone stood and clapped as they took their seats, and cameras flashed around us, taking pictures of the occasion.

As we took our seats again, I leaned over to Olivia and whispered, “Knowing my mother, she’ll start to expect camera flashes every time she sits down to a meal now.” ‘Liv giggled in response.

The meal that was set in front of us a short time later was actually quite delicious. It was some fancy French dish that I couldn’t pronounce, but it boiled down to chicken, vegetables, and some sort of sauce. I was almost finished when I happened to glance up at the head table, only to see my mother boring down on me, clutching her skirts in her hands to keep from tripping. She had a tight smile on her face as she passed her friends, but it disappeared when she got to me.

“Peyton,” she said, her voice dripping with acidic honey. “You’re finished your meal, right?” She gave a pointed glance at my plate.

“Um, not quite,” I said, giving her a puzzled look. “Why?”

“I think you’ve eaten quite enough, dear,” she said, then bent over and hissed in my ear, “I don’t want my friends to have to watch my cow of a daughter fill her over-large face while they’re trying to eat. You’ve disgusted them long enough.” She swept away from me before I could say another word, and before I knew it, a server was taking my plate away. My face burned with shame and embarrassment.

“I need some air,” I choked to Olivia as I stood up and made my way out of the room.

I held back the tears until I was safely outside of the house and hidden on the far side of the tent in the backyard. I felt them start to fall, one by one, down my cheeks, and it took every ounce of control I had not to let the sobs escape my mouth. I dug around in my purse for some tissue, but I knew tissue wouldn’t take the redness from my eyes, or fix my make-up. I couldn’t go back into that room, I just couldn’t, so I stood there and let myself cry.

The tears hadn’t been flowing very long when Olivia came tearing across the grass, an enraged expression on her face.

“Don’t be pissy with me,” I rasped, trying not to hiccup in her face. “I had to leave. You didn’t hear what she said.”

“Oh yes, I did,” ‘Liv said, her eyes flashing angrily. “What a fucking bitch that woman is! She just asked me to come find you so that you can give a toast in a few minutes. I told her where to stick it.”

“She expects me to get up there and toast her after she did that to me?” Even when I thought her selfish behaviour couldn’t get worse, it did. “Fuck, ‘Liv, I hate her. I honestly and truly hate her.”

“I know, honey.” Olivia gave me a brief hug, but it was nice, and it made me feel like I wasn’t alone against my wench of a mother. I gave her a half-hearted smile.

“I can’t go back in there now,” I said, sniffling. “I’m all splotchy, and my make-up is ruined. That’s just what she wants to see, just what she wants her friends to see, me looking like the tragically fat blob that I am. Not going to happen.”

“I have some touch-up stuff in my bag,” Olivia said, taking the tissue from me and wiping mascara off my face. “I bet we could make you look perfect again if we tried. Then you can go in there and show her she didn’t get to you.”

“Why bother?” I sighed, fighting the urge to sit in the grass in my dress that suddenly felt as large as the tent we were standing beside. I reached up to trace the scars on my neck, as I always did when I was stressed.

“If you run away now, she’s won, right?” Olivia pressed. “But if you go in there with your head high, she doesn’t get the satisfaction of hurting you like that. You can cry as much as you want when you’re alone in your flat, but for right now, let’s show the bitch what you’re really made of.”

Her face was determined when I looked at her. Without another word, she dragged me into the loo and did a crash-course on my face. By the time she was done, only my slightly-bloodshot eyes gave any indication that there was anything wrong. She brushed out my hair, re-fastened my barrette, and pushed me back toward the dining room.

The toasts were in full swing when we got back, so no one noticed us make our entrance. No one, that is, except my mother, standing at the head table, a microphone in her hands.

“Perfect timing, Peyton,” she called to me just as I went to sit down. “It’s your turn to come up here and offer a toast.” She gestured to me with the microphone.

I felt my face heat up again, only more vividly this time, and was suddenly glad for the foundation that would hide my embarrassment from the eyes that were all staring at me now. I didn’t dare look across the table to where Orlando was sitting. I didn’t want to know he was staring, too.

I took a deep breath and weaved my way up to the head table where my mother was still holding the microphone out to me. She gave me a sweet smile as she leaned in to hug me briefly.

“Don’t embarrass me, Peyton,” she whispered so only I could hear. I patted her back awkwardly, probably a little harder than was necessary, and pulled away.

Another deep breath had me facing the sea of tables spread out in front of me, each containing several pairs of eyes, all aimed right at me. Unconsciously, I reached up and pulled my hair around my face and shoulders, trying to hide the scars. The fat I couldn’t do anything about, but I could at least try to hide the scars as I stood facing my ultimate worst nightmare: public speaking.

I cleared my throat quietly as I looked down at the microphone in my hands, the seconds ticking away as everyone waited for me to speak. I finally looked up and spotted Olivia, not very far from where I stood, and saw her mouth, ‘Give ‘em hell,’ and give me a huge grin. I couldn’t help it, I smiled.

“Well, Mother,” I started, glancing down at Mom, who’d taken her seat beside where I stood. “Today finally happened.” I tried to hide the slight quiver in my voice, but it didn’t work, and I hoped people would attribute it to emotion, rather than nerves. “You know, it’s fitting that we should all be gathered here to celebrate your love for Garrett like this. Your whole life has been a spectacle, you’ve always been the beautiful centre of everything. Why should today be any different? All dressed up in your lacey gown, with your friends and family here to stare and whisper how gorgeous you are, that’s what your life is all about, right?” I kept my tone sweet, like I was stating a fact, rather than gearing up to deliver the blow I’d been wanting to give her for so long.

“Peyton,” she said, a warning clear in her voice. She could see what was coming, but she could only sit and smile as I gave my little speech. If she did anything else, she couldn’t play the victim afterwards.

“Today was perfect, Mom,” I continued, ignoring her. “The only thing I don’t understand is how you could ask your embarrassment of a daughter to be here, to sit among your beautiful friends, in Garret’s beautiful house, to eat the beautiful food, when you know, deep inside yourself, that she’s the one element in your life that isn’t truly perfect.” I paused as a ripple went through the crowd. “It doesn’t matter that your daughter is successful, or intelligent, or a decent person when push comes to shove, now does it? She’s overweight and scarred, marring your perfect existence with her hideous one. And of course, her disgrace wouldn’t be complete unless you could parade her in front of your friends to gain sympathy for the fact that you’d given birth to such an unholy creature, right? Isn’t that the point of my little speech here? To show your wretched friends what you’ve been saddled with? To make them pity you for the one thing in your life that isn’t perfect? Well, here I am, Mom, in all my fat, scarred glory, and they can stare all they like.” I faced only her now, the rest of the room forgotten. “And to tell you the truth, I just don’t give a damn anymore.”

I set the microphone on the table, turned and walked away, toward Olivia, who was already grabbing our purses. The room around me buzzed, and people stared as I walked by, but I didn’t care. I’d humiliated her for once, the way she always humiliated me, and I wasn’t going to let some stupid gawkers ruin that for me. I kept my head up, my eyes straight ahead, and my steps even. I just wanted to leave, to be away from this whole mess.

“Peyton.” I stopped when I heard my name, as it was the last thing I expected. My mother was standing up again, the microphone in her hands, an ugly sneer on her face. I faced her, squared my shoulders, and put my hands on my hips, then tilted my head slightly to let her know I was listening.

“We should just go,” Olivia whispered beside me, trying to tug me away. Part of me wanted to go with her, to not wait to see what my mother would unleash on me, but I couldn’t do it. I needed to see that I’d upset her. I needed her to hurl her venom at me in this public place, to show everyone what a bitch she really was.

“I’m listening,” I called after a few silent seconds.

She was trembling, with rage I was sure. Garret stood beside her, his hand on her back, his face strangely blank.

“Peyton, even though you’ve embarrassed me in front of my friends here today, and even though you haven’t always been the perfect daughter, I’m willing to forgive you for that,” she started. “I wanted so much for you to be a part of my special day, for you to be happy for me, but I realize now that you’ll never be happy, not for me or for anyone, because your own life is so pathetic.” She gave me a pitying look.

I had to respond, I couldn’t help it.

“How is my life pathetic, Mother?” I asked, taking a few steps toward her. “Give me one reason why my life is pathetic.” I knew I shouldn’t open myself to this, but I wanted to see how she’d react.

“You’re always alone, Peyton,” she said sadly, though I could see the glee in her eyes. She loved this. “No one cares about you. Even your readers don’t care about you, because they don’t even know who you are.” I felt Olivia tense behind me when she mentioned my readers, and we both knew what was coming.

“Don’t,” I said quietly, my shoulders slumping in silent defeat. “Don’t do that, Mother.”

“What, Peyton?” she trilled, her face all innocence. “Don’t tell people that you don’t even sign your own name to your work? That you’re so pathetic you can’t face anyone knowing who you are? That this mysterious Dominique Marceaux that you’ve created doesn’t really exist? She’s just a cover for a deformed fat girl who won’t even leave her apartment for fear that people will stare at her? Is that what I’m not supposed to do? Expose your lies for what they are?”

I closed my eyes for a moment, fighting off tears. I felt Olivia behind me, her hand on my arm, and I knew I should just leave right there. But I couldn’t. There was one face I needed to see first, and as I opened my eyes and scanned through the crowd, I saw him, a stunned expression on his beautiful features, looking at me as though he’d seen a ghost.

That was all I needed to see. I dashed from the room as gracefully as I could, and didn’t stop until I was in the black cab that was still waiting for us in front of the house. I could feel the anger radiating off Olivia, but I didn’t care. My insides felt like mush and I trembled uncontrollably, trying not to vomit in the back of the car.