Just Stop
As the sleek black car with Mason and Ellen drove off from the hotel, Aubrey stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the taillights as they disappeared into the night. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat resonating with a mixture of anger and bitterness. That should be her, she thought, her hands balling into fists at her sides. It should be her sitting beside Mason, not Ellen. The image of Ellen, radiant and beautiful, clinging to Mason's arm, made her blood boil.
Philip, standing beside her, seemed oblivious to the storm brewing within Aubrey. He sighed contentedly, his eyes still on the now-empty driveway. "Isn't Ellen looking lovely tonight?" he remarked, his tone casual but with a hint of genuine admiration.
Aubrey's jaw tightened. "Yeah," she responded bitterly, the word clipped and devoid of any real feeling. The last thing she wanted was to hear more praises about Ellen. The mere mention of her name was like salt in a fresh wound.