Broken Strings

ii.

"They're beautiful. I love the ruby one especially," I say honestly. Eliza has her own jewelry design line, and though it's fame level is nowhere near Chaumet and Cartier, it is popular within the nouveau riche circle.

"Oh, that one's my favorite too! Adeline, you've always had such a good eye when it comes to fashion. I swear, it's a pity you don't have your own line," Eliza pouts. "Anyway, when these come out, you'll be the first to know! I'll save all the goodies just for you."

Just as we're chatting away, Rhys arrives and pulls out the seat in-between Eliza and Nathan.

"Baby bro," Rhys smirks, "I heard you've been schmoozing up to Tom Watkins. How does it feel having to beg for scraps at the hands of others?"

Rhys reminds me of a sly cheetah, silently waiting behind the bushes, waiting for the perfect moment to strike his prey. For a thirty-something year old man, he seems to have never grown out of his frat boy phase. Or at least so it seems. I can't tell if it's a front or if he's genuinely an asshole—probably a combination of both. The personality certainly serves him well when it comes to business, he's notorious for taking down difficult deals and succeeding in endeavors others view as impossible. But privately, it makes him a nuisance to deal with. Especially when he loves to rub his superiority in Nathan's face.

"None of your concern, Rhys." Nathan replies curtly.

"Aw, come on, baby bro. Gimme a smile! Don't be so rude to your big brother!" Rhys laughs, patting Nathan on the back.

Rhys keeps referring to their connection as if people don't know they're brothers. To be honest, if you just looked at the two of them, they don't seem so closely related. Cousins, maybe, but not brothers. Rhys has blonde hair, often slicked back, and brown eyes. Nathan's hair is chocolate brown, messily styled into a quiff as if he just carelessly ran his fingers through them. His eyes are a piercing blue, the exact same color as their dad, Phillip Walker. But both Nathan and Rhys have the same lips that can curl into the most cruel, unforgiving snarl. Their build is also similar, and emanate the same aura that screams a certain ruthless dominance.

"Rhys. We're at a celebratory event." Nathan reminds him. Unlike Rhys, Nathan always, I mean always, minds his public persona and presentation in front of others. It's why he's so anal about my timeliness. Sometimes, I think he makes it a point to show others how he is better, more appropriate, the way Walker men should be. But I can't imagine someone like Nathan to be self-conscious. He's the most confident, no, arrogant, man I've ever met, next to Rhys. No matter how many insults others may toss at him about his parentage, I have no doubt it doesn't bring him down a single bit.

"Oh, how dare I!" Rhys sarcastically slaps his hand over his mouth and raise his eyebrows in shock. "Come on, baby bro, loosen the fuck up. Do you need me to help you? I know a couple of good bitches I could introduce to you."

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, referring to the high class escorts he keeps on the side. It's as if neither me nor Eliza are sitting right there, in perfect hearing distance. But both of us ignore him.

For a second, I contemplate the possibility of Nathan having other women outside of our marriage. Truthfully, it's something I've never thought about, despite his brother's womanizing ways. Though my husband isn't the kindest man around, I know he has his set of morals. He's not someone to lie or steal. But the depressing state that our marriage is in, it's not completely impossible for him to have women I don't know about. Especially when he goes on business trips at times for weeks on end.

I don't know why, but I find my self clenching my jaw and fists all of a sudden as this thought blossoms.

"I have enough on my plate." Nathan says merely. I look at him out of the corner of my eyes, and force myself to unclench.

A second later, the lights dim as classical music starts playing softly. The wedding is finally beginning. I sigh in relief as this god forsaken conversation has finally been put to an end. It's never good when Nathan and Rhys spend too much time together, so thank god they don't have the opportunity to talk much once the festivities start.

My head turns to the back as everyone's attention is focused on Annabelle. She walks into the room, dressed in the most luxurious, stunning gown I could imagine. The lace detailing glitters under the light, and it seems as if she's basked in a golden glow. I can't help but stare in awe, admiring her beauty. Her steps are light and graceful as her right arm loops into that of her father's.

People like Annabelle Everett are meant to have multiple weddings like this. Something about her seems almost unreal, ethereal. She was born into this world, born with everything I don't have. And her grace, her class, is something I'll never have no matter how hard I fake.

I can't help but think back to my own wedding, and compare myself with Annabelle. Not that there's anything worth comparing.

Unlike this grand celebratory event, my wedding to Nathan seems almost pathetic. It was a tiny ceremony, with less than twenty people. Most of whom were his contacts; I barely knew anyone. I remember feeling like an outsider, so overwhelmed I wanted to lift my skirts and run as fast as possible. But somehow, I managed to walk my way down the aisle. It all happened so fast, I can barely remember the details now. I don't remember anything going on in my head. The only thing I do remember, and will remember for the rest of my life, is looking at dad hopelessly as Nathan was reciting his vows. I'd never seen my dad looks so content in my life. He had tears streaming down his face, happy tears. He hadn't been so gloriously happy since the day mom passed away three months ago.

After the wedding, he took my hand in his and looked into my eyes, "Addy, I know this is what your mother wanted for you. I know Nathan will give you all the happiness in the world."

Happiness, he said. Not love. To dad, happiness was money, wealth, a comfortable living. To me, it was love. And the last thing Nathan Walker will ever give me, is his heart.