Sorry for the delay, caught a cold and it's been messing up my brain cells. I started to mummer to myself as I was half asleep, don't even know what I was saying. Long story short, my brain was too sick yesterday. Feeling better now and hoping to continue typing. Enjoy.
It was worse than it seemed.
Heather can't help but glance towards the slim woman walking around the room. A head of thick greying strands of glorious locks drape to the back of her slim back, glazing just about her hip area.
Heather can't help but glance towards the electric calender beaming against the peach colored walls.
The 15th.
Right.
Maybe it is a bad omen to speak of the devil. Literal hours after explaining to her son about the gruesome behavior of her husband's parents...
One of them show up after years of being silent.
Just as she's seen her before, she doesn't look a year over 50 and her breasts are averaged sized and still full enough to shape nicely against the low square cut of the dress.
Her cheeks have slight wrinkles, exposing her age along with her hair, but Heather can tell she's been under a few needles and knifes to keep the nasty wrinkles away.
Aging is an imperfection to them.
Show a little but not too much. So she'd say.
As a little girl... I've fantasied growing old with the man I loved. Showing off the wrinkles we grew over the years... Evidence of how long I've fallen for the man.
But they won't allow me.
And they won't allow Domen... Especially his unborn child.
"So the wedding, I assume it is going accordingly?" Desmond's mother asks as she finally turns from inspecting the surrounding and glances at her.
Eyes exactly like my husband, cold, brutal and with killer intent.
"Everything is going according to your plans, yes." She nods her head as she tilts her head to the side and drops her gaze to the floor. "Domen just shifted it to earlier than scheduled, I assume you were informed."
"I was. But I needed to know why and the boy never even explained himself." She shrugs her shoulders as she presses her lips together and glances towards a portrait of Desmond. "I hear Desmond is out carrying work-related duties."
"Of course, as always." Heather sighs and almost rolls her eyes. "He never has time for his wife."
"Success comes first above all else." The woman says, getting Heather to frown as she glances back at Desmond's mother.
"And with success comes sacrifice... Right?" Heather asks as the woman raises a brow at her, getting Heather to look away, annoyed.
"Hm." The mother clicks her tongue and walks over to a photo of Domen when he was younger, in his teens.
The finely tamed hair well pressed back had not a single strand behaving imperfectly.
His clothes, despite the photo being of him holding a bike, are finely pressed under a hot iron and sharply clean.
As far as Heather knows, she's robbed Domen of a childhood he should have had.
He's never actually learned to ride a bike as far as she's concerned, he only owned one for decoration and photoshoots.
He doesn't have much toys to display except the ship in a bottle that he had to assemble when he was ten and a thousand puzzle piece of the Mona Lisa that his father had framed and added to their decor.
From what toys he could own down to how often Heather was allowed to breastfeed him or play with him, it was all to the liking of this woman.
She loves control.
Heather glances down at her phone as she scrolls down the endless list of social media antics and influencers.
Nothing unusual.
Just as always, Evette has been posting more photos lately than she usually does.
Since she will have a busy three months after the wedding, the long awaited honeymoon, she ought to take as many photos now than later.
Tapping against her profile, Heather could notice how less she's taken photos with her supposed 'best friend'.
The woman changing the once emotion-lacking son of hers.
She could recall how he confessed to her, the slight glimmer in his eyes as he admitted to liking a woman other than Evette whom he'd cared for for a long time.
Heather wanted to deny it, but she had no option but to accept it at the time.
He was falling for a woman his family will never allow him to be with.
Whether or not he's looking forward to the pregnancy didn't matter. This woman standing in front of Heather is going to rip that imagine out of his mind.
Forcefully.
"How are the children's relationship like?" The woman asks as she turns to the ship in a bottle that she had bought for Domen years back. "They posted about it for a while and now it's a distant memory. They better start acting as they were or people will start asking questions."
And so what if they ask? Let them.
"They are still getting married by the end of the day, whether they show affection or not." Heather says as she stops at a photo of Lavender and Evette just after the endless scrolling of photos.
She taps onto Lavender and it takes her to Lavender's profile.
Unlike Evette, Lavender hasn't posted anything since then and her profile has countable photos and videos.
From the looks of it, Heather could tell Lavender isn't a fan of heavy makeup and expensive clothes.
For someone who's caught her son's eye, Heather could simply conclude her son just had weird tastes in the woman he likes.
You also fell for the wrong man Ms Carter. Now you're pregnant and you still won't heed to my warning.
If she finds you, you'll wish you listened to me just a bit sooner.
Heather tilts her head slightly as she scrolls to a photo of Lavender alone, holding a painting of herself.
Her hair is a complete mess with loose strands nearly visible.
Though to others that's quite normal for hair to look that way, to Heather whose spent years drowning her hair in expensive conditioners and shampoos sees it as a mess.
But aside from her messy hair and a face bare of any makeup to hide her slightly unmatched skin, Heather can kind of see why Domen fell for that natural look.
Lavender is a pretty woman.
Her round face and short body only makes her more childish. Which could be Domen's preference from the tall, slim and overwhelmingly beautiful women, like Evette.
Maybe all this perfectionism makes him want something more... Real.
"You and Desmond also need to go back to taking photoshoots together once in a while and post it on the platforms." Desmond's mother says as she walks over to a chair and takes a seat, getting Heather to glance at her. "It's been months since I last saw a couple's photo and your anniversary should be approaching."
Desmond never likes those, he'd never tell me why. But I didn't like them either, because we are forced to do them.
We used to love them, up until we lost Roman.
"We will." Heather simply nods and turns her gaze back to Lavender's photo.