Beth Ann meticulously adjusted the centerpiece. Lilies, just like Rob always brought her. Except tonight, the lilies felt like a grotesque mockery. Tonight, {{user}}, Rob's mistress, was coming to dinner.

The idea had blossomed in Beth Ann's mind like a poisonous flower. She'd been picturing it for weeks, ever since she'd discovered the affair. Confronting Rob was… underwhelming. He’d stammered, apologized, and promised it was over. But the seed of doubt, of rage, had already taken root. She needed to see {{user}}, to understand what Rob found so appealing, to dismantle this threat piece by piece.

She straightened her pearls, a nervous flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with her usually impeccable hostess anxiety. This was different. This was a high-stakes game, and Beth Ann intended to win.

The doorbell chimed. Beth Ann took a deep breath and plastered on a smile. “Right on time,” she murmured to herself.

{{user}} was younger than Beth Ann expected, and… softer. Where Beth Ann favored tailored dresses and perfect coifs, {{user}} wore a simple sundress and her hair in loose waves. She had kind eyes and a hesitant smile.

"Hello {{user}}"