“But you can be.” She couldn’t keep silent, couldn’t help appealing to Staffan one more time. And Saffi knew she would probably do it again and again even if it killed her. Because she loved him and because she knew he had loved her – still loved her.
“If you just listened to me,” she said brokenly. “If you just let me explain---”
“YOU ALWAYS GODDAMN LIE!”
Saffi whitened.
“Don’t you f**king understand? I can’t f**king trust you because there was never a day that you didn’t lie and I’m beginning to think I fell in love with a f**king psycho who can’t stop lying!”
She started to cry, and she couldn’t stop crying when Staffan cursed.
“I can’t deal with this right now.” The door slammed shut behind Staffan, and somehow it felt like he was effectively shutting her out of his life as well.
****
“Don’t mind them.” Mary couldn’t figure out if she was warning or pleading with her mentor as the interest in Saffi just kept growing, and not in a good way. The stares and whispers were something she had a feeling Saffi was already used to. But the snide comments were so much worse and even Mary was feeling weak at just how spiteful everyone was being.
If only this line would just move faster, Mary despaired silently. Normally, queues for the Registrar’s Office were nonexistent. It was just their luck to line up at the same time the freshmen had been asked to update their records. Now, Mary and Saffi had been forced to listen to everyone bitch about Saffi’s love life – they had been listening to it for only fifteen minutes, but in Mary’s mind it felt like forever.
Saffi forced herself to smile for the younger girl’s sake. Mary was very aptly named, and she had a gentleness about her that helped Saffi keep calm. Before she could answer, the girls behind her were talking again, loudly.
“Some whores just can’t get enough of dicks.”
“Yeah, like f**king terrorists aren’t enough---”
The comment got to Saffi and she whirled around, unable to believe someone could be so blatantly racist. “Excuse me?”
The two girls were just about her age, both of them artificial blondes and dressed in identical Burberry dresses, Ferragamo boots, and clutching matching Gucci purses.
Great, Saffi thought. Jeremy was being badmouthed by the Olsen twins in knockoff designer outfits. Because they were fake, even though most people wouldn’t have known it. But then, that was one of the perks of being Pearl Beaufort’s daughter.
Burberry Blond One looked uneasy at being confronted publicly, but she quickly hid it behind a derisive smile. “Do you want me to repeat it?”
“Yes,” Saffi said calmly, “I do. Because I’m going to have you reported for racism and discrimination, which are considered major offenses in this university.”
Burberry Blond 2 came to her friend’s defense, snapping, “You think you’ve got it all, don’t you? Even though Staffan Aehrenthal married you, don’t think it’s going to last. It won’t! So if you’ve lined up here to have your name changed, don’t bother.”
“Ah, but I will bother. Because, you know, I’m rich and I can afford to pay again to have my name changed back if it doesn’t work out.” She looked pointedly at the dress, the purse, and the boots. “I’m really, really, really rich.” She stroked her original Chanel purse.
Twenty minutes later, Mary was still laughing as she recounted Saffi’s earlier confrontation. “That was so awesome, Saffi!”
“It wasn’t really,” Saffi confided guiltily. “I’ve never done something like that before.” She took out her phone and started checking Twitter, needing to know if there was some way that what happened had already made it on the Internet.
“Rub people’s noses in your wealth---like that kind of something?” Mary teased.
Saffi made a face. “Jeremy was a victim of bullying and racism when he was young so it just touched a nerve.” She started to say something more, but then she saw the most recent tweets mentioning her and she paled.
Correctly interpreting the look because she had also seen how the fangirl community reacted to the news of Staffan and Saffi’s wedding, Mary said quietly, “Don’t let what they’re saying get to you, Saffi. You know how they are. They’re just reeling because they didn’t see this coming. And they don’t know the truth.”
“Yeah, I know that.”
“They’ll understand eventually, the moment you and Staffan work things out---” Mary stopped speaking when Saffi looked at her with sudden horror, her eyes wide and dark with anxiety.
“What is it?”
“Chloe – Staffan’s ex…she’s here---as in here, today, now.”
****
A trail left by fangirls was always easy to follow since they had a tendency to be very detailed. In no time, she was able to pinpoint Chloe Gustav’s exact location – a hotel owned by the Aehrenthal family. The moment Saffi passed through the doors, she nearly drowned under the chorus of greetings she received from all the employees. Everyone referred to her as Mrs. Aehrenthal – the first time she heard herself being called that. It was surreal and just a little heartbreaking, leaving Saffi rubbing her eyes to get rid of the tears as she entered the lobby café.
When she opened her eyes again, Chloe Gustav stood in front of her, a catty smile on her still-beautiful face. “I was thinking it could not be you, but I see that it is you.”
Saffi wanted to puke. This was Staffan’s first love, the girl who had single-handedly ruined Staffan’s life. No matter what she did, even if this whole stupid scandal about their baby hadn’t blown up in the newspapers, Saffi had a sinking feeling that she could never replace Chloe in Staffan’s heart. First loves were special – she should know since…since Staffan was her first love.
Chloe was heading to one of the tables next to the windows, her h*ps swaying with each move. Tall and svelte, she was like an overgrown Marilyn Monroe minus the beauty mark. Saffi followed behind slowly, stumbling once before she caught herself, feeling na**d under the awkward gazes of the staff around them. One of them would report what was happening to Staffan – she was sure of it.
When they sat across each other, Saffi saw to her satisfaction that Chloe’s age was beginning to show. It was such a small thing, but she needed all the motivation she could get. With every second that passed, Saffi felt like Staffan was drifting closer and closer to this woman’s arms. And she just couldn’t let that happen – she would do anything not to let that happen.