Helen Takes Charge
Downstairs, Helen was already in full command mode, her energy filling the house with an almost suffocating intensity. She darted from room to room like a whirlwind, barking out orders and meticulously arranging decorations to suit her vision. “We want everything perfect,” she declared, pausing to admire her work with a self-satisfied smile. Her idea of perfection was rigid and rarely aligned with mine. My husband, Jake, approached quietly, offering me a sympathetic look. He understood all too well that Helen’s version of perfect would proceed regardless of anyone else’s input. I sighed inwardly, bracing myself for the evening’s inevitable clash between appearances and my own desire for peace.
Helen Takes Charge
Guests Arrive
With the first chime of the doorbell and the echo of car doors slamming, guests began arriving, filling the house with a cacophony of greetings and laughter. I forced a practiced smile, extending pleasantries to family members and friends alike, though each backhanded comment about my “pregnancy glow” or supposed lack thereof sent shivers through my composure. Alex stayed close, sensing my unease, and did his best to provide distraction and comfort. With his natural charm, he entertained relatives effortlessly, drawing attention away from my discomfort. Still, I braced myself, knowing the night was far from over, and Helen’s influence would only intensify as the evening progressed.
Guests Arrive
