And it was then that Cecelia Wyndam-Crittenden, Ivy League graduate, finally /got it/. Avery had always been distracted over the years by the memory of this woman and whatever time they'd had together during that weekend he'd vanished to Los Angeles.
She'd been losing to Sydney's ghost for years, always playing second fiddle to her husband's mystery lover. How many times had Avery pretended she was Sydney Ashcroft when they were together?
And the cruelest blow of all, was that this woman had her husband's baby, and was now poised to take him once and for all?
"You lying whore." Cecelia snarls, a bit loudly, her iron composure slipping away into a mask of fury.
The next moment, she realizes where she is and that there are people watching. This can't be her. She can't let Sydney win.
She cannot allow Avery to keep humiliating her like this.
"I'm sorry to have wasted my time. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again soon." Cecelia says, standing up and starting to walk away...
before picking up Sydney's glass of water and tossing it in her face.
"I hope that won't throw your schedule off or anything." she smiles, walking away.
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