Seeing the gown hanging outside the guest room door, I suddenly remembered there was an important company banquet tonight.
As the president’s wife, it was naturally my duty to attend.
I reached out and took the dress, letting out a bitter laugh.
From the front, it appeared luxurious and exquisite, but the back had been shredded to pieces, a childish act of revenge from Alison, without a doubt.
My phone buzzed endlessly, message after message flooding in.
Each one was a photo of Alison trying on different gowns, her delicate little face brimming with smug pride, over a hundred photos.
A video call finally popped up.
On the screen, Alison’s voice rang out, sweet and innocent.
"Delilah, I originally wanted to wear your dress, but Blake insisted on bringing me shopping. I’m so tired from trying on dresses. Tell me, which one suits me best?"
In the corner, Blake sat quietly on the sofa, his patience and doting gaze unmistakable.
I didn’t answer. I simply hung up.
Barely thirty seconds later, Blake’s call came through, his voice filled with anger and faint sobbing from a girl echoed in the background.
"Delilah! Alison respected you enough to ask for your opinion and you spoke so harshly to her!"