Everything was going well.

The caterer had been early. The florist had went above and beyond with the pieces. The violinist and pianist were producing beautiful melodies. Her assistant Tonia has picked up her dress and Ted's tuxedo from the dry cleaners, keeping everything running smoothly. The waiters and waitresses carried trays of hors d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne, constantly moving about the room and servicing the guests. Everyone was chatting, laughing, and dancing.

Everything was going well.

Except one thing.

Mallory cringed as her mother waltzed into her line of sight for the umpteenth time this evening. The woman was a nuisance. Mallory mirrored her in appearance, but that was the only thing she had in common with her birth giver.

With a smile plaster on mauve painted lips, the young woman smoothed out her black gown. "Mother," she greeted, raising a flute to the brunette.

"Mallory," her mother mirrored, eyes and northern accent thick with disapproval. "You look like a spinster standing by yourself. Where's your husband?"

She choked down her displeasure, blue eyes rolling. "Off schmoozing—you are aware of his upcoming campaign."

Eileen stepped to Mallory's side, scanning the room. The younger emptied her glass in one, swift drink—she knew this dance well. Under her mother's critical gaze, the gala, though a success, would be ripped to shreds as if it were Cinderella's carriage after midnight. Dark eyes would pick apart her child's outfit: short dresses showed the cellulite on her legs, long gowns shortened her and made pert breasts appear saggy, backless and strapless emphasized the slight bulge in her underarms. Anything and everything that the newly married woman wore was a horrible fashion choice in the eyes of her scathing mother.

The decor would be criticized with the judgement of a wanna-be interior designer. It would be compared to a child's birthday party, similar to how her past events had been. Every little detail would be nit-picked and classified as a failure.

Mallory flagged a waitress over, grabbing two more glasses with a small thank you. She needed a little more to be able to deal with her mother and her displeasure.

"Who picked out those tablecloths, they're atrocious and they clash with those pathetic centerpieces. Really Mallory, anemones?"

Guests walked past and around the duo, azure eyes following the movement rather than acknowledging her mother's venom. "Where's Jennifer? I'm sure she'd be a better target for your frustration."

"You sister has nothing to do with your horrible taste in interior design."

Finishing one drink, Mallory pushed it towards Eileen, rolling her eyes as she walked away. "Enjoy the gala, mother," she sang over her shoulder.

She didn't direct her steps in a certain manner. simply strolled around. Casual greetings fell from plump lips as she passed various guests, prominent members of small town government. She and Ted has worked tirelessly to get in with them--meetings, dinner parties, and casual doubble dates amounting in many hours of schmoozing. All of it was finally paying off. Most have already backed Ted's current campaign for mayor and others donated their money.

Despite their triumphs, professionally and socially, Mallory envied those around her. They were huddled together, laughing and sharing stories, or twirling about the dance floor with wide smiles. This was the part of every event that Mallory hated. No one was alone. Even her mother, as poisonous and vile a creature she can be, was now surrounded by her father, sister, and in-laws. Ted was occupied by the guests, engaged in conversation, hardly taking notice to his wife's loneliness.

She wanted her husband by her side, cracking horrible jokes, whispering in her ear, and promising her time alone, much like he had when they were dating and engaged. These events were simple then—they had few to impress, other than wooing his father's clients, which took very little. They loved him already. He had their support when he declared a love for politics, much like the brunette had.

Sighing to herself, Mallory took another sip before leaving her glass on the nearest table and slipping away from the crowds. Through glass doors, she walked out to the garden, warm summer air and beams of moonlight caressing her skin. She bathed in the solitude, breathing in fresh air. Slender fingers reached in her hand bag, scavenging until she found a cigarette and cradled it between lips, lighting it with elegance. She took a long drag, expelling smoke from her nostrils while her free hand grabbed the opposite bicep.

"Did we move the party outside, darling?"

Plump lips curled in knowing. Blue eyes shined as Mallory turned around, glancing up and down her well-dressed husband. The black, pinstriped suit was tailored to his body, hair combed back and facial hair trimmed, just barely noticeable.

Ted stood beside her and a strong hand pulled Mal closer, hips against each other. He smelled of delicious cologne and Mallory was intoxicated by it. "How long must we stay?"

She offered him her cigarette, to which he merely shook his head. "I'm not sure. I've barely greeted the majority of our guests."

"And I've barely seen you." Plump lips took a short drag.

"And I've apologized—"

She pushed away from him, eyes ablaze. "And I've grown tired of sharing you with these people!" Mallory didn't mean to become upset, didn't want to raise her voice when this was expected. They had only been married for three months, and the woman was already frustrated. She knew what she was getting into when they married—knew that this was going to be their lives, especially if she continued to pursue her own political career—and still, she blew up at him.

"I'm sorry," she exhaled, refusing to ignore the hurt burning in her husband's eyes, "I shouldn't have—"

Ted quickly pulled her back in, wrapping his arms around her velvet dress and caressing her back. Mal sunk into the contact, gripping at his jacket desperately, the cigarette dropped and forgotten. "I understand. I'll talk with my dad, see if we can cut this short. How does that sound?"

Face buried in his chest, Mallory's words came out muffled. "What have I done to deserve you?"

A soft kiss was placed on the top of her head before the warmth her husband offered was slowly removed. "The feeling is mutual, love. Excuse me."

She watched as Ted walked back to the party, still unable to believe that she had such an amazing husband. She hadn't done anything to deserve him, but still, he chose her. It warmed her heart, and she returned to the gala with an impossibly sweet smile.

Pools of blue honed in on her in-laws, pensively listening to their son as he talked animatedly. Mal was so wrapped up in watching their conversation that she failed to notice the two guests approaching her, arms linked.

"You must be the newly Mrs. Morgan," the woman greeted, drawing Mallory's eyes to her. A hand was offered, "Gwendoline Trombly."

Batting thick lashes, Mallory scanned over the woman—blonde ringlets, olive eyes, maroon lips, and grey silk grazing the floor, held up by two thin straps on delicate shoulders. Deep smile lines were embedded in thin cheeks. Her face was sharp, angular, and eyes cat-like.

Her hand shot out, shaking Gwendoline's. "Mallory," she corrected, "pleasure to meet you." She gestured to the young man beside her, dapper in a navy suit and white tie, black hair slicked back. "And this is?"

The man, closer to Mallory's age, glanced up at the blonde and spoke after she nodded her head. He too shook the brunette's hand. "William, ma'am, William Davis."

Curious, Mallory's smile widened, wanting to ask about their relationship, but thinking against it. It wouldn't be acceptable for a host to pry in the guests' personal lives. "Pleasure," she repeated, recognizing his name from the invitation list. "Thank you for attending. Your support means a great deal to the two of us."

"Of course," Gwendoline cried, patting William's hand before directing her gaze to him. "Get us some champagne."

And off he went, without another word, and Mallory was perplexed. Her lips twisted, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"We have a different type of... relationship," the blonde offered, locking eyes with the host.

She nodded, unsure but knew when to not push further. "Don't we all," she joked, earning a small chuckle. "I hope you two are enjoying yourselves."

"No need to worry, we certainly are."

"Wonderful!"

"How has married life treated you thus far? Ted is certainly a handsome man."

Mallory laughed. "Well yes, I am very fortunate to have found him, and we're doing well. Just adjusting, thank you. Are you and William married—"

"Oh no," Gwendoline interrupted, just as the man in question returned, handing her a glass. "Our relationship is a little less complicated than that, but we can discuss that another time. Over tea or coffee, perhaps?"

The brunette couldn't help her intrigue, and willingly accepted the offer. There was something about the woman that was drawing her in. She was curious of their relationship, and of the blonde in general. How has she not yet met them?

They continued their discussion and William only spoke when he was spoken to. Soon, they were on a nickname basis, at least until Ted joined the trio and informed Mallory of his parents' approval. She introduced their guests and was ready to walk away with her husband when Gwen called out for her.

The older woman approached her, pen in hand, and grabbed a slender wrist. Mallory watched and felt as the tip was pressed against her skin and formed numbers. "My landline," Gwendoline explained, "feel free to call anytime and we can set up a play date."

Mallory smiled and caught up to her husband, wrapping her arm around his as they walked out the doors and waited for the valet to bring their car.