Her friend, oblivious, kept going. "I keep forgetting to ask. How's your grandma doing?"
"I heard she collapsed at Jasper's company that day. Is she okay?"
Hilda whipped around. "What did you just say?"
Her friend blinked. "You didn't know?"
"I was at Fairmont Group that day for a meeting. Your grandma was stopped at the front desk by some woman. The woman was pretty hostile, throwing around words like homewrecker. Then Jasper showed up."
"Their relationship..." Her friend studied Hilda's face carefully before continuing. "It seemed a little too close for comfort. Did Jasper ever mention her to you?"
"After I left, I heard your grandma had fainted. I went back to check but couldn't find her. Jasper was there, though, so I figured she was taken care of."
Her friend trailed off, startled by the look on Hilda's face.
"Hilda? Hilda, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Did something happen?"
Hilda shook her head. She bit down hard on her lip and pressed both hands over her face.
So Grandma had gone to see Jasper that day. She'd known everything.
How angry must she have been when she left? How heartbroken?
Hilda forced a smile at her friend, but in the next instant, a wave of grief so heavy it seemed to drag every feature of her face downward swallowed it whole.
She didn't even bother making an excuse. She stumbled to her feet and left the table, barely holding herself together.
Hilda's phone screen lit up, dimmed, lit up again. She stayed on Jasper's chat window, unable to scroll away.
There was so much she wanted to ask him.
Then, for no particular reason, her gaze drifted up, and she spotted Vivienne across the room.
Something compelled her to follow.
Vivienne wound through corridor after corridor until she emerged onto a terrace, where a man stood waiting with his back turned.
Hilda's breath caught.
"Jasper."
He swirled his wine glass and turned with a smile, meeting Vivienne's lips in a kiss.
Vivienne was all fire, coiling around him like a serpent, her body pressed so close that the heat between them was unmistakable.
The rustle of fabric, a woman's breathy whimpers, heavy breathing—all of it threaded into Hilda's ears.
"Between me and Hilda, who makes you feel better?"
"You. Obviously," Jasper murmured, his voice thick with want. "She's uptight and boring. She couldn't compare to you if she tried."
He kissed Vivienne's cheek, his tone dripping with intimacy. "You like that? Wife?"