"The best revenge is massive success." - Frank Sinatra
Veronica
The lights were blinding, the chatter a dull roar, but I barely registered it. My mind was still replaying the conversation in the ladies' room, the unexpected encounter with a ghost from my past. He always had a way of unsettling me, of stirring up emotions I thought I'd long buried. And tonight, of all nights, his presence felt like a bad omen.
Just focus on the auction,I told myself, forcing a smile as I took the stage. Focus on the children. That was my mantra, my anchor in the storm of emotions swirling within me. I glanced out at the crowd, searching for Marcus. He was there, near the front, his eyes fixed on me, a reassuring smile on his face. I gave him a small nod, a silent thank you for his support.
"Good evening, everyone," I began, my voice clear and strong, projecting confidence I didn't entirely feel. "Welcome, and thank you for joining us tonight for this very special occasion." I launched into my prepared speech, the words flowing smoothly, the practiced cadence a familiar comfort. I talked about the foundation's work, the impact of our programs, the bright futures we were helping to build. I shared stories of the children, their resilience, their dreams, their unwavering hope. And as I spoke, I could feel the familiar warmth spreading through me, the genuine passion for this cause reigniting within me. It was real, this connection to these children, this desire to make a difference. It was the one thing that grounded me, that kept me going, that made all the sacrifices, all the performances, all the masks, worthwhile.
The auction began, and I slipped into my role as co-host, alongside Marcus. We worked seamlessly together, our banter light and engaging, our enthusiasm infectious. We cajoled, we charmed, we inspired. And the donations poured in. It was exhilarating, this feeling of collective generosity, this shared commitment to a greater purpose. With each raised paddle, with each generous bid, I felt a surge of hope, a renewed belief in the power of human kindness. It was a reminder that even in the midst of darkness, there was always light.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
As the auction progressed, I managed to push the earlier encounter to the back of my mind, focusing all my energy on the task at hand. But every now and then, my gaze would drift towards the crowd, searching for him. He wasn't there, I realized. He had left. A wave of relief washed over me, followed by a flicker of unease. He hadn't come for money, or to cause trouble directly. He had come to talk about Liam. Liam, the last person on earth I wanted to think about tonight. Liam, who was in jail for what he did to *me*. Seven years ago. When I was twenty-one. The thought of it, the memory of it, sent a shiver down my spine. He was up for parole, his brother had said, his voice laced with a mixture of guilt and… something else. Hope? He actually thought I would help him? After what he did? After what he took from me? The sheer audacity of it. The nerve. The thought of Liam, of that part of my life, brought a wave of nausea.
The final item was auctioned off, a once-in-a-lifetime experience package that fetched a staggering sum. The crowd erupted in applause, and Marcus and I took a bow, our smiles genuine, our hearts full. It was a success, a resounding success. We had exceeded our fundraising goals, and countless children would benefit from the generosity of those in attendance.
As the guests began to disperse, I made my way over to Mr. Abernathy, the foundation's director. "Thank you, Veronica," he said, beaming. "Tonight was truly remarkable. Your dedication is an inspiration to us all."
"It's my pleasure, Mr. Abernathy," I replied, shaking his hand. "These children deserve every opportunity we can give them."
He nodded, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Indeed they do. And thanks to you, their futures are a little brighter tonight."
His words warmed me, a genuine warmth that spread through my chest. It was in these moments, these fleeting connections, these shared moments of purpose, that I found the strength to carry on. It was a reminder that even behind the mask, there was a real person, a real heart, a real desire to make a difference. And that, I realized, was enough. For tonight, at least, it was enough. And as for him, and his concerns about Liam? I would deal with that later. Discreetly. Just as I had dealt with everything else in my life. But for now, I would savor this victory. It was a small act of defiance, a way of saying that no matter what happened in my past, I would not be defined by it. My success, this night, this achievement, was my own. And that, more than anything, felt like a victory.