Arabel's POV
Left to me, I wouldn't have come. The unease leaking into my blood is enough to make me regret it and stalk to the door in fear of what might happen today.
I shouldn't have come.
What if someone else recognises me? Do I have to keep denying to everyone that I am not her?
I should probably have come with a little disguise.
Forcing a weak smile to my lips, I gaze up with fake confidence, hoping no one would see through the facade.
A step at a time gets me into the vast living room where the birthday is going on. I glance around for the sight of the woman who just clocked 60, but she is nowhere to be found.
I might regret coming here, but I ought to.
This woman means so much to me. My conscience forced me down here. I pretended and lied to her about not being Arabel. The least I could do was to come bearing her good wishes on a day like this.
My team decorated the living room. Richard sent me an email two nights ago about the job; which was after his mother gave me the invitation and left. I was still indecisive about whether to come to the party or not, but I had to take the job.
Just before I can continue walking in until I find someone I know, Richard appears from nowhere with a light smile on his face.
"Hey," he waves at me with his right hand. There is a glass of wine in his other hand.
“Hi,” I reply back with a smile.
“I'm glad you could make it," he says, nodding at me in relief, and I smile shyly.
I shouldn't have, I thought inwardly.
Even though we stay next door to each other, I hadn't seen him since the day she invited me for her birthday. I am avoiding him, and he knows it.
Silence ensues until he steps in line with me. We venture in together without a word.
"Richard," someone calls from behind, halting us and making him turn slightly to see a familiar figure appear.
It is Caroline.
His cousin.
Shit!
I should have known that nearly all of his family members would be here tonight. Why the hell didn't I think of that? Did he do this on purpose, just for me to finally admit I am her?
I felt like masking myself, but this is impossible because Caroline's jaws drop immediately her gaze settles on mine.
She ambles forward. “Arabel?”
I am about to shake my head when Richard beats me to it. “She isn't.”
“What?!” Caroline exclaims in disbelief, while my gaze ping-pongs between them, ignoring the goosebumps swarming my entire skin.
“She is my business partner from London. Bella Portillo," Richard introduces with a face devoid of humor. “I know she looks so much like Arabel. I was as shocked as you were.”
She turns to me, still shocked. I flash her a smile, hoping she believes the story.
I know this is too much of a coincidence. Not only did I look just like his ex-wife, but I am also working with him, and I just attended his mother's birthday.
Caroline isn't a fool to believe that.
Unable to contain her curiosity, she drags Richard away, and I know this is about me. Darting me looks at intervals, I watch them converse in low tones until something she says catches my attention.
“She is Arabel, can't you see?”
Richard shakes his head and grits his teeth at her persistence before coming back to me.
“Let's go," he mutters without a smile. I don't want to say anything, but not doing that is enough to arouse his suspicions.
“Is everything okay?" As he guides me towards an empty lounge, I feel odd among the crowd.
“Yes.” He only says.
He guides me to a seat just in time for his mother to appear, glamorously dressed and beautiful, just like I can remember. I almost shoot up to my feet to embrace her, but I am quick to control my emotions and remind myself of who I am.
Not Arabel, but Bella.
“Hey, Bella," the old woman calls, opening her arms for me to come in just the way she used to.
Shyly, I stand up and hug her. “Happy birthday, ma.”
“Thank you, my darling.” She disengages from the hug before diverting her attention to Richard, who is still fuming in silence. She taps me, and I lean forward towards her. Then she whispers. “He hasn't brought home any ladies since…”
“Mom!” Richard's loud voice interrupts her from going further, making me itch to know what she wants to tell me.
She moves away, letting go of my arm. “Have you showed her around?”
“No…”
"There is no need for that, since there is a party going on." I oppose the idea of Richard showing me around. I know this house. I know every bit of it, just like the lines on my palm.
It will only make me feel nostalgic. Being here is enough to arouse my emotions and remind me about the past.
It also makes me feel so bad for pretending to be someone else. It makes me feel guilty for lying through my teeth to the woman I have known as a mother for years.
She was the one who comforted me when others looked down on me. She was the only woman who made me feel like a princess. She was the only one who always motivated and encouraged me to keep going.
I loved her. And I still do.
Watching her act like the real me does not exist makes me want to cry. I have been forgotten.
Being away for four years is enough to make her forget me. Leaving without telling her about the divorce was a form of betrayal.
I am sure she was mad at me for my decision, and I really did not know what to do or whether to come out clean or keep up with the pretense till my contract is over and I have to go back home to London.
An unexpected twinge of sadness tugs at my heart.
“Bella?” They both call, his jaws clenched while a flash of surprise crosses her face. Quickly, I push back the unshed tears crowding my throat.
“Sorry, I was lost in thought," I mention, and she waves it away quickly.
“Let's go back to the party.”
I don't feel like doing that. Right now, I just wish to find a quiet place to sit and think things through.
If I tell her tonight that I am indeed Arabel, the night will be ruined. She would be sad on her birthday.
Aside from that, how do I face Richard after all the pretense? What do I tell him? How do I vent my four years of pent-up anger?
What about Daisy? Am I supposed to tell her about Daisy, too? Will Richard even believe she is his, considering how I left without letting him know a child was growing inside of me?
How do I face every one of them? How many more people will recognise me as Arabel tonight?
“I…I…” I trail off, feeling awkward as I can't come up with a tangible excuse to leave. Richard and Mother stare at me with concern.
“Is everything okay?" Richard touches my arm.
Moving away, I nod. “Yes, yes, I am good. I just need to use the restroom.”
“Oh!” Realization dawns on him.
“You should show her the way," his mother orders with authority, just as another familiar figure appears behind her.
Oh God!
My spine stiffens at the voice.
“Theresa…” she pauses, her eyes fully rested on mine. “Is she…?”
Mother laughed. “Arabel? Of course not. She just looks like her, but she isn't.”
The woman doesn't look convinced, so Richard grabs my hand and leaves the lounge, my heart beating twice its normal rate.
This is bad.
That was Mother's best friend. It makes me wonder if Mother believes I am not Arabel indeed.
In order not to attract any more attention, I lean my head down, my earlier confidence vanishing into thin air.
The lump in my throat is still there, making it difficult for me to tell Richard to let me find my way. I know where to find the restroom. I don't need him to take me.
Moreover, his presence is causing me more problems. I just want to be alone. Perhaps I should find my way out of here as soon as I am done in the restroom.
Regret hardened into determination as I swallow the lump and halt abruptly before releasing my hand from his hold.
“Don't worry, I can find my way to the restroom," I mention with a little smile.
“Are you sure? We are almost there.” He says, his anger has visibly abated.
I nod. “Don't worry. I will join you in a bit.”
"Ok then," he says, swallowing and stepping away as I hurriedly walk past him. Feeling his eyes on me, I don't turn back to see if he is still there because I know he is.
I can't do this.
I can't relate to his family members. I can't complicate issues for myself. I need to find my way out of here.
If I continue doing this, I am going to hurt Mother for the second time. Hurting her by leaving the moment Richard sent me the divorce papers instead of consulting her first should be enough.
Adding this would be more hurtful. I'm pretending to be someone I'm not. I am lying to her, even though I am aware of her strong dislike for liars.
I know the reason why I never consulted her. It was because I knew she would find a way to make him take back his words. I was determined to leave because he didn't value me.
She would blame me for that, but I don't regret leaving. Leaving him brought a huge change to my life. Having to disclose my pregnancy to him when we both know how we started and how he doesn't love me would have left me showing less care and love to my child.
Having to bring Daisy up alone is something I will forever cherish. I showered her with all the love I lacked, and I am willing to give her every single thing she wants, which I also lacked due to the untimely death of my parents.
Emotions crested in my throat.
Quickly, I walk into the restroom, shutting the door behind me. This is like a general restroom for the public, since there is a party downstairs.
I wouldn't have gone upstairs because I knew it would arouse suspicion.
I'm not here to relieve myself of anything other than the huge load in my throat. I slam my back against the door, puffing in and out.
Shit!
I messed up big time. Coming here was a big mistake. My soft heart will definitely land me in trouble someday.
I didn't tell Ashley I was coming here. She didn't even know about the party. I guess Richard didn't tell her or invite her.
She promised to watch over Daisy, who is too attached to her already. I should get moving so I can pick Daisy up before she goes to sleep.
I also need to get home before Richard.
I move to the mirror to check myself out, thinking of how to go out unnoticed.
The door opens, and I pretend to be checking my makeup when I see a familiar figure from the mirror walk past me.
As the face slowly registers in my head, shock runs through me.
Eve.
I make for the door immediately and race out.