It had been a couple of weeks since Estelle’s intense showdown with Sabrina, and things had settled into a somewhat comfortable rhythm between her and Celeste. The tension and jealousy that had once clouded their relationship seemed to be fading, replaced by a growing sense of trust and understanding. But just when Estelle thought she could relax, she found herself facing a new challenge—one she hadn’t been prepared for.
A family dinner.
It had been Celeste’s idea, sprung on Estelle casually as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
“My mother invited us for dinner,” Celeste had said one evening as they were wrapping up a late night at the law firm. “She wants to meet you properly.”
Estelle had frozen at those words, her mind immediately flashing back to the first—and only—time she had met Eleanor Thorne, Celeste’s mother. It had been brief and incredibly uncomfortable. Eleanor had swept into Celeste’s office like a hurricane, casting judgment with every glance. She hadn’t even bothered to hide her disdain for Estelle, and that encounter had left Estelle rattled for days.
Now, apparently, she was supposed to sit down and have dinner with the woman who had made it painfully clear that Estelle didn’t belong in her daughter’s world.
“You want me to have dinner with your mother?” Estelle had asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Celeste had simply shrugged, her expression calm as always. “She’ll get over herself. Besides, I want her to see who you really are—not the version of you she’s already decided to hate.”
Estelle had reluctantly agreed, though every fiber of her being screamed that this was going to be a disaster.
And now, as she stood outside the grand Thorne family estate with Celeste beside her, Estelle’s nerves were in overdrive. She adjusted the hem of her dress for what felt like the hundredth time, feeling out of place in the lavish surroundings. The sprawling mansion loomed above them, the elegant stone façade and manicured lawns a stark reminder of just how different Celeste’s world was from her own.
“Relax,” Celeste whispered, noticing Estelle’s anxious movements. She placed a comforting hand on the small of Estelle’s back. “It’s just dinner.”
“Yeah, dinner with your mother,” Estelle muttered under her breath. “The same woman who looked at me like I was a stain on her pristine world the last time we met.”
Celeste chuckled softly, her eyes glinting with amusement. “She’ll behave tonight. I won’t let her push you around.”
Estelle gave her a small smile, though her stomach was still in knots. She appreciated Celeste’s confidence, but Eleanor Thorne wasn’t exactly known for being agreeable. This wasn’t just any family dinner—it felt like a test.
Taking a deep breath, Estelle followed Celeste up the grand stone steps to the front door. A butler answered almost immediately, ushering them inside the grand entrance hall. Everything about the place screamed old money—from the polished marble floors to the towering crystal chandelier that hung overhead. Estelle felt a little like she was walking into a scene from a movie, except this was all too real.
“Celeste,” a familiar voice called out as Eleanor Thorne appeared from one of the adjoining rooms, her sharp eyes immediately locking onto Estelle. The older woman looked as impeccable as ever, her gray hair swept back in an elegant chignon, her fitted suit radiating wealth and power. “So glad you could make it.”
Her gaze flicked briefly to Estelle, and though Eleanor’s expression remained polite, Estelle could feel the thinly veiled disdain just beneath the surface.
“Mother,” Celeste greeted coolly, stepping forward to kiss her mother’s cheek. “This is Estelle.”
Eleanor’s lips twitched in what was barely a smile. “Ah yes, Estelle. The intern.”
Estelle forced herself to smile, though the way Eleanor said “intern” made it sound like an insult. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Thorne.”
Eleanor’s eyes flicked over Estelle’s dress, clearly judging every aspect of her appearance. “Likewise,” she said, though her tone was laced with insincerity. “I trust you’re settling into your… position at the firm.”
Estelle’s jaw clenched, but she kept her voice steady. “I am, thank you.”
Celeste, sensing the tension, placed a firm hand on Estelle’s lower back, guiding her further into the house. “Where’s Father?” Celeste asked, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from her mother’s passive-aggressive remarks.
“He’ll be joining us shortly,” Eleanor replied, her voice clipped. “Shall we move to the dining room?”
Dinner was as tense as Estelle had feared. Eleanor was cordial, but it was clear that she wasn’t thrilled about Estelle’s presence. She made little digs throughout the meal, subtle but pointed comments about the importance of family legacy, the sacrifices that had been made to build the Thorne name, and the expectations placed on those who carried it. Each remark felt like a carefully aimed arrow meant to remind Estelle that she didn’t belong.
But Estelle wasn’t the same woman she had been when she first met Eleanor. She had grown stronger, more confident—thanks in large part to Celeste. So instead of shrinking under Eleanor’s disapproval, Estelle held her own, meeting the older woman’s gaze with quiet strength and refusing to let her insecurities show.
At one point, when Eleanor made a particularly cutting remark about “people who come from nothing trying to climb their way up,” Estelle smiled sweetly and said, “It’s amazing what people can accomplish when they have determination and drive. I’m sure you can appreciate that, Mrs. Thorne.”
Celeste, sitting beside Estelle, smirked into her wine glass, clearly pleased with how Estelle was handling her mother’s barbs.
As the evening wore on, however, it became clear that Eleanor wasn’t going to let up. Every chance she got, she found a way to undermine Estelle, subtly planting seeds of doubt about her relationship with Celeste.
By the time dessert was served, Estelle had had enough.
As they sat in the grand dining room, Estelle looked across the table at Eleanor, who was in the middle of another thinly veiled comment about “appropriate matches for someone of Celeste’s standing.”
Estelle placed her fork down gently, locking eyes with Eleanor. “Mrs. Thorne,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “I understand that you have certain expectations for Celeste, and I respect that. But I want to make one thing clear—I care deeply for your daughter, and I’m not going anywhere. No matter what history or legacy is attached to the Thorne name, I am committed to her. And I would appreciate it if we could have a conversation that isn’t laced with insinuations about my worthiness to be here.”
The room fell silent.
Eleanor blinked, clearly caught off guard by Estelle’s directness. Celeste, meanwhile, looked at Estelle with a mix of surprise and pride, a small smile playing on her lips.
For a long moment, Eleanor said nothing, her expression unreadable. Then, with a tight smile, she nodded once. “Very well,” she said, her tone neutral. “I suppose it’s good to know where you stand.”
Estelle’s heart raced, but she kept her expression calm. She had stood her ground, and for the first time that night, it felt like she had finally earned a sliver of respect from Eleanor—whether the older woman would admit it or not.
After dinner, Celeste and Estelle made their way back to the car, the cool night air a welcome relief from the tension that had filled the evening.
“You were incredible in there,” Celeste said as they climbed into the car, her eyes gleaming with admiration. “I’ve never seen my mother so speechless.”
Estelle let out a shaky laugh, finally letting herself breathe. “I thought she was going to kick me out of the house.”
“She might have wanted to,” Celeste said with a grin, “but she won’t. You held your own tonight, and she respects that—even if she won’t say it.”
Estelle smiled, feeling a sense of pride and relief wash over her. It hadn’t been easy, but she had faced Eleanor Thorne and walked away with her dignity intact.
“Still,” Estelle said, glancing at Celeste with a teasing smile, “next time you decide to spring a family dinner on me, a little more warning would be nice.”
Celeste laughed, reaching over to take Estelle’s hand. “Deal.”
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