When we entered the hall, I recoiled, only Gaston’s firm hand tugging me forward stopped me from bolting. It was a crowded place, full of people, the sound of loud conversations, music, the fragrance of mixed perfumes, cigars, alcohol…I felt sick.
The room seemed to grow silent as we made our way to a decorated, raised platform at one end of the room. Gaston limped to the centre, pulling me along, decisively. A sea of people before us, watching, listening; I wanted to shrink and die. Moving forward my hand still anchored in his, he announced ,
”Ladies and gentlemen, my dear friends, I want to present before you, the mother of my children and the woman I am going to marry, Janice.”
My mouth must have fallen open in shock for he bent his head and kissed me hard, gathering me in his arms.
When he raised his head, I stared at him in disbelief. As I opened my mouth to speak, he kissed me again, harder and dimly, I heard the crowd roar in appreciation.
‘Behave.” He commanded in a low voice, against my mouth, as he lifted his head.
Glasses of whiskey appeared out of nowhere but I refused, still feeling dazed. We moved among the guests who were observing me with curiosity and sometimes, with scorn, pity and hostility. At one point, we came up before the woman I knew as Sweetie, who threw her arms around Gaston and pressing herself against him, kissed him passionately. When she was done, I turned to her companion, an odious looking gentleman whose eyes were fixed on my breasts and gave him a dazzling smile, my hand over my chest. The response in his eyes was enough to make Gaston growl softly and squeeze my wrist in warning.