Chapter 31 - Evania
Christina had been here twice in one day.
Twice.
By noon on day two, I started to wonder if I’d finally lost my mind.
There was no other explanation for why I had tolerated her for this long.
The first visit was bad. The second, worse. Between her comments about my weight, subtle hair insults, and dramatic sighs, I seriously wondered if enduring her was worth it.
I pressed my lips together, replaying one of her comments from yesterday.
"You have such a lovely face. If we could just balance the proportions a little more..."
Balance the proportions.
If it wasn’t for the fact that I had never been to a ball before in my life, I would have given her a piece of my mind already.
But unfortunately, I needed her. Or maybe I was convincing myself I did, because I wanted to fit in and prove I belonged at this event.
Or at least that’s what I had told myself.
“Maybe I have lost my mind,” I muttered.
Apparently, she was very well known in elite circles for preparing women for events like this one. Which meant tolerating her comments… for now. Still, after two days of listening to her, I couldn’t help wondering if she behaved like this with all of Callahan’s exes.
The thought had been bothering me since yesterday because if she did, then maybe I was overreacting. But if she didn’t… Then there was an entirely different problem. That curiosity was exactly why I had called Emily earlier this morning.
Emily had answered quickly, sounding cheerful as always. “Hi, Evania! What’s up?”
I leaned back against the couch, trying to sound casual. “Hey. I had a question.”
“That sounds suspicious already.”
I ignored the comment. “So… Callahan’s exes.”
Emily hummed thoughtfully. “What about them?”
“What did they usually look like? Except Victoria, of course.”
There was a short pause.
Then she said, very matter-of-factly, “Tall. Very thin. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Basically, the kind of women who look like they belong on the cover of luxury magazines.”
I blinked. “Oh.”
Emily’s voice softened slightly. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” I lied quickly.
But the answer had stuck with me long after the call ended.
Tall. Thin. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup.
Perfect hair.
Perfect makeup.
I glanced down at myself, then at the mirror. For the first time since meeting Christina, I wondered if she had a point. A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.
“Come in,” I called.
Maria stepped inside, her warm smile immediately easing some of the tension.
“Miss Evania,” she said gently. “Christina called. She will arrive in the next two hours.”
I stared at her.
Two hours.
Two.
A vivid image flashed through my mind of me dramatically throwing myself off the nearest cliff.
“Wonderful,” I said flatly.
Maria tilted her head. “I take it you are not looking forward to her visit.”
“That would be the understatement of the century.”
I wasn’t even sure why I was attaching so much importance to this situation. It wasn’t as though Callahan had ever given me any reason to doubt that he was attracted to me. If anything, the opposite was true. Which only made my reaction to Christina’s comments even more frustrating.
Maria stepped further into the room.
“You know,” she said gently, “we could always hire someone else.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You do not need to lower yourself to please her.”
I stared at her. “Have you been eavesdropping?”
Maria’s eyebrow lifted slightly. “Yes, I had to keep my distance to avoid throwing something at her. ”
Fair.
I sighed. “You’re right.”
Maria smiled faintly. “So if she comes today with the same attitude…”
I leaned forward, narrowing my eyes at my reflection. “I will absolutely not hold back.”
Maria’s smile widened. “Good.”
Considering how the last two days had gone, that outcome seemed very likely. Once Maria left the room, I picked up my phone and sent a message in the group chat with my siblings to organize a shopping day.
Evania: Emergency shopping day needed.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Elena: I'm in.
Serena: Who are we fighting? I’m free after lunch.
I smiled despite myself.
Me: No fighting. Just shopping.
Serena: That’s less fun, but I accept.
Elena: Where are we meeting?
Me: At my cafe.
Sabrina: SAY LESS.
By the time I put my phone down, a small burst of relief washed over me.
I stood and walked toward the bathroom. If Christina was going to spend another afternoon analyzing my appearance, I at least wanted to feel comfortable in my own skin while she did it.
I removed my wig carefully and set it aside before stepping into the shower. The warm water helped wash away some of the lingering irritation.
Taking care of my hair had always been something grounding for me. There was something simple and honest about the process, something that reminded me that the person staring back at me in the mirror was still the same woman who had been perfectly content working in a small café just weeks ago.
When I stepped out of the shower, I styled my curls into a quick wash-and-go style. It was simple, natural, and easy.
No elaborate styling. No attempt to impress anyone.
Just me.
I studied my reflection again when I finished.
The woman in the mirror looked relaxed, comfortable, and, for once, unbothered by Christina's expectations. A steady confidence replaced the earlier uncertainty—if Callahan wanted someone like his exes, he wouldn’t have chosen me.
Instead, he had chosen me.
By the time Christina arrived later that afternoon, I had settled into a calm that felt almost suspiciously peaceful.
Maria escorted her inside, and Christina entered with the same polished confidence she always carried.
Her eyes immediately scanned the room before settling on me.
Then her gaze moved slowly from my feet… up to my waist… and finally to my hair.
“Well,” she said lightly. “That’s certainly… different.”
“Good afternoon, Christina,” I replied politely.
She walked closer, tilting her head as she examined my curls. “You changed your hair.”
“Yes.”
“I must admit,” she continued, “I preferred the previous style. It gave you a slightly more refined appearance.”
I inhaled slowly. “I see.”
Christina sat down and elegantly crossed her legs.
“You know, Evania,” she began, “I really am trying to help you.”
I nodded. “I’m sure you believe that.”
Her gaze swept over me again.
“It’s just that Callahan has a very specific type.”
“You've already said this.”
“I know, so why do you refuse to listen?” She rolled her eyes.
“Christina,” I said carefully, “could you stop commenting on my body and focus on your job?”
“Oh, don’t be so sensitive. I’m only being honest. Men like Callahan have certain expectations. If you want to maintain his interest—”
That was the moment my patience snapped. I stood up slowly.
Christina frowned slightly. “What are you doing?”
Instead of answering, I walked toward the large mirror across the room. I slowly turned in front of it, doing a full 360-degree spin. Then I faced her again.
“What part of me,” I asked calmly, “looks like I have trouble keeping a man?”
Christina gasped softly, her eyes widening. “Evania—”
“Call me Mrs. Sterling,” I continued. “You’ve spent two days pointing out my supposed flaws. Let’s talk about them.”
She shifted uncomfortably. “That’s not what I—”
“You've made very insulting comments on my body. What about it bothers you so much?”
I placed my hands on my hips. “Is it my hips?”
Christina flushed slightly.
“You implied my hair was unacceptable.”
I fluffed my curls. “Are you seeing these curls?”
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“And you seem deeply concerned about my ability to keep my husband.” I stepped closer. “That’s the most fascinating part about this whole thing.”
Her posture stiffened. “Why is that so fascinating?”
“Because the only person in this room who seems obsessed with his attention… is you.”
Her face went pale. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
I tilted my head, studying her the same way she had been studying me for two days.
“Since we’re giving helpful feedback,” I said lightly, “can I offer some of my own?”
She looked offended. “I don’t need—”
“Oh, I insist.”
Her lips tightened, but I ignored her. “For someone who critiques bodies professionally, you really should consider your posture. That tension in your shoulders is creating harsh lines.”
That only seemed to make her stiffen her shoulders further.
“And the dress,” I continued thoughtfully. “It’s elegant, but it’s doing absolutely nothing for your waist.”
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“I’m helping,” I said sweetly. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?”
Her cheeks turned red. “I was being constructive.”
“So am I.”
I slowly circled her chair, inspecting her the way she had inspected me. “You might also want to reconsider that shade of lipstick. It’s drawing attention to the lines around your mouth.”
Christina shot to her feet. “That is incredibly rude!”
I smiled. “Now you know how I’ve felt for the last two days.”
Silence filled the room. Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to respond.
“You’re being very ungrateful,” she finally said.
“No,” I replied calmly. “I’m setting boundaries, just as you should set your foundation. Have you seen how cakey it looks today?”
She stared at me. “You think Callahan will tolerate this attitude?”
I met her gaze without hesitation. “I think Callahan married me and not you.”
Her expression faltered.
“And if he wanted someone who looked exactly like his exes,” I added calmly, “he would have chosen one of them.”
"What are you trying to say?"
"What I'm trying to say is, before you try to steal my husband by playing games with my self-esteem, you should consider the fact that you aren't his type either."
Her eyes flew to mine. "Yes, I am."