Sweet For You, Ruthl Chapter 3: The Accusation!

Chapter 3: The Accusation!

How could I?

I didn’t even know where my own place was—how dare I try to define anyone else’s? She

I don’t know where their place was. I needed to find and know where my place was.

I sighed softly, my fingers reaching for the glass of juice in front of , hoping for so semblance of comfort.

Before I could touch it, Selena’s perfectly manicured hand snatched it away. The motion was swift, deliberate.

"Why are you even at this table?"

Her glare bore into , sharp and unrelenting.

I froze. The question landed like a slap, my pride already too bruised to take another hit.

Selena’s disdain burned brighter as she watched

hesitate, feeding off it. I saw it in her eyes—the hatred, the resentnt. She didn’t just dislike my presence. She loathed it.

What was I doing here, sitting among her friends? Did I think I belonged? Did I plan to steal them too?

The thought alone made her blood boil.

But I couldn’t steal anything. Not from her. Not from anyone. I was nobody. I was nothing.

And Selena was determined to remind

of that.

"Selena," I gasped, my voice soft, a small frown tugging at my lips.

Selena folded her arms across her chest, her smirk cold, razor-sharp. "Don’t just repeat my na like you’re so broken record," she snapped. "Answer —why did you sit here?"

Because we were family. Because I had thought—hoped—that after all these years apart, Selena might want to connect. The sa way I did.

I had been alone in the US. No friends, no real ho. I had hoped that coming back would be different.

That maybe Selena could be soone I leaned on.

Soone who might actually care.

But it was obvious now—Selena didn’t feel the sa.

My gaze dropped to her manicured nails, glittering under the chandelier’s light. I stayed silent.

What was the point of answering?

I had no one. No allies. No friends who would take my side. I was alone.

The sting of tears welled up, but I blinked them back furiously.

After tonight, I wouldn’t co to another party. Not Selena’s. Not anyone’s.

I took a shaky breath, forcing down the bitter lump in my throat.

But I have to fit in. This is life.

Yet, as I looked around the room, sothing settled in my chest. A realization, cold and certain:

Maybe it’s not about fitting in. Maybe it’s about learning to stand alone.

Esther straightened in her chair, her tone sharp and inquisitive. "Who invited her anyway?"

Selena sniffed dismissively, never taking her eyes off . "I’d really like to know."

"Who invited you here?"

Because they believed I knew no one. Because they were right.

My shoulders tensed as the question sliced through the air. I forced a weak smile, hoping—praying—they were just joking.

Surely they couldn’t an this.

But the icy stares around the table said otherwise.

Rachel leaned back, her eyes scanning the group as if searching for a culprit. "Why is no one confessing? Who brought her here?"

Sasha scoffed, her voice dripping with mockery. "Did you sneak in, perhaps?"

The question hung in the air, heavy, suffocating. A quiet ripple of unease spread across the table and the nearby guests.

Selena’s eyes widened theatrically. "My God, I hope not. The embarrassnt to the Blackwood na would be unbearable."

My face paled. My lips trembled. "No, I was invited! I wouldn’t just—"

Selena shot to her feet.

The screech of her chair against the floor sliced through the noise, demanding attention.

And she wanted their attention.

"Co on," she declared, glaring down at . "We need to confirm with security if you were even authorized to be here."

"Selena, stop doing this." My voice was soft, almost pleading.

She grabbed my arm, yanking

upright.

Selena’s pout was calculated, her concern just believable enough to fool onlookers. "But we have to be sure. I can’t let you make a fool of yourself—or us."

"You’re absolutely right," Esther chid in, her voice laced with urgency. "Soone call security. We need to clear this up imdiately."

Anger bubbled inside , hot and sharp. I shook off Selena’s grip, my voice trembling but firm. "What are you doing? Let

go."

But my frustration lacked the force to match hers.

Selena tightened her hold and dragged

toward the entrance. A small but eager crowd followed, hungry for the drama unfolding before them.

Then—

"Ma’am, what’s going on here?"

A security guard jogged over, cutting off our movent. His expression was unreadable, but I could tell—he was already irritated.

Rachel jumped in before anyone else could speak. "She’s here illegally!"

The guard’s brow furrowed. His gaze landed on . "Ma’am, no one can enter this hall without an invitation. That’s strictly enforced."

Rachel gasped, offended. "Who do you think you are to speak to us like that?"

"What a brute," Selena sneered.

The guard ignored them. His tone was firm, professional. "I’m here to ensure order, and causing a scene at soone’s party isn’t acceptable."

Selena’s fingers tightened on my arm.

But I seized the mont.

I yanked myself free.

I couldn’t take any more.

I needed to get out of this place. Away from the humiliation. The suffocating whispers. The judging stares.

"Please return to your seats," the guard continued, his voice cutting through the chaos. "The party hasn’t even started yet."

Selena seethed.

But I didn’t wait for her reaction.

The sting of tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

Not here. Not now.

I turned to leave.

"Excuse ," I murmured, reaching for my purse, my fingers trembling.

I clutched it tightly and stepped away from the table.

My movents were deliberate, graceful even. But inside, I was breaking.

Look at her, they whispered. Look at her.

Every pair of eyes followed .

I felt them all—contemptuous stares, amused smirks, quiet snickers. But I kept walking, my heart pounding with every step toward freedom.

Then—

Just as I reached the edge of the hall—

A foot jutted out.

Too quick to see.

I stumbled.