She flinched for a second. Then her expression twisted into something cold and cruel.
The scissors raked across the gown.
The skirt tore apart, shredded beyond recognition.
The back of my hand caught the blade when I tried to block her. Blood welled up instantly.
"Oops. My hand slipped."
Vivian dropped the scissors with a look of wide-eyed innocence, but the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth gave her away.
I stared at the ruined dress. The pain in my chest was unbearable. Losing Stewart hadn't hurt a fraction of this.
"You vile bitch! That was my mother's. You owe me!"
I didn't feel the cut on my hand. I didn't feel anything except blind rage as I swung and slapped Vivian across her pale face as hard as I could.
"Ah!"
A bright red handprint bloomed across her cheek.
"Vivian!"
Stewart backhanded me even harder. The force sent me crashing to the floor.
"Stewart, my face hurts so much!"
Vivian wailed at full volume, throwing herself into Stewart's arms as if she'd suffered some unimaginable injustice.
My chest heaved. Tears burned in my eyes as I stared up at Stewart from the ground.
He knew what that dress meant to me. Better than anyone.