Eighteen years later, she'd still be repenting online for what she did that night.

"I'm sorry, Valerie. I shouldn't have thrown your gown on the floor."

But Valerie had no intention of letting me off that easily. "An apology should look like an apology. Otherwise, I'll think you're not sincere."

"Then what would you have me do?"

"Tell everyone here that you wanted to be Adam Sanchez's mistress. That you're just as slutty as your mother. Oh wait, no. You're worse than your mother."

"I don't want to be anyone's mistress. Adam and I are done."

I even pulled off the ring right in front of her. The one I'd planned to wear at our wedding.

"Take it back. We're finished."

Adam froze mid-step. He didn't reach for it. The ring hit the floor.

"I say you wanted it, so you wanted it."

Valerie grabbed a fistful of my hair and dragged me into the hotel banquet hall.

"Everyone, come look! Here's a woman who was begging to be someone's mistress!"

Someone asked, "Isn't that Adam Sanchez's girlfriend?"

"Not anymore." Adam's voice was flat. "My girlfriend is Valerie Herring. The new secretary at my company."

"Ah, that explains it." Knowing laughter rippled through the crowd.

A woman stepped forward. "I always said a mistress's daughter would grow up to be a mistress too. And to think, Adam, you used to defend her."

Valerie chimed in. "Oh, she even slapped herself across the face twice, trying to get his sympathy."

"But our Adam is a man of principle. He'd never fall for that kind of cheap seduction."

As she said this, Valerie leaned into Adam's chest.

I saw the way his expression twisted, something deeply uncomfortable passing across his face. But his mouth still moved in agreement. "Whatever you say, babe."

The words cut into me again. I opened my mouth to explain, but before I could get a single syllable out, someone threw a glass of champagne straight at my face. "You're a disgrace to women everywhere. Are there no single men left? You had to go after someone who's taken?"

The alcohol hit my open mouth. I choked, gasping, unable to speak, coughing so violently my ribs ached.

Then someone else followed suit, splashing another glass across my face.

"Homewreckers deserve to die."

After that it was one glass after another. Some drenched my chest. Some poured over the top of my head.

Someone grabbed my jaw, pried my mouth open, and kept pouring liquor down my throat.