Chapter Sixty Three: As Expected

Elizabeth continued her barrage of thinly veiled insults, critiquing everything from my education to my mannerisms. I could only hold in my anger and respond with a smile.

Meanwhile, Maxwell tried to change the direction of their conversation from his mother’s scorn but generally failed.

Whenever he attempted diverting the discussion, she always found a way of returning it back to her unending criticisms of me.

Later in dinner, Elizabeth kept attacking my education and manners through subtle insults. I could only hold in my anger and respond with a smile.

Maxwell, meanwhile, attempted to steer the conversation away from his mother's barbs, but his efforts were mostly in vain. Every time he tried to shift the topic, Elizabeth found a way to bring it back to her relentless criticism of me.

"Mother, did you see the latest exhibition at the art gallery downtown?" Maxwell asked, trying to divert her attention. "They have some fascinating pieces on display."

Elizabeth barely glanced at him. "Yes, I heard about it. But Amelia, dear, I suppose that's something you would be interested in, given your... background."

I smiled tightly. "Yes, art is a passion of mine."

Maxwell tried again. "Speaking of art, did you know Amelia curated a very successful exhibition last month? It received rave reviews."

Elizabeth's eyes flicked over to me with a hint of disdain. "That's... nice. But Maxwell, do you remember when you used to date Charlotte? She always had such refined tastes, didn't she?"

Maxwell's jaw tightened. "Mother, that was a long time ago. Amelia's work is impressive and important."

Elizabeth waved a hand dismissively. "Of course, of course. It's just that Charlotte's family was always so well-connected. But I suppose everyone has to start somewhere, right, Amelia?"

I took a deep breath, my voice steady. "Yes, Mrs. Thorne. We all have our paths to follow."

Her eyes flicked to me as she spoke, the implication clear. I forced another smile, determined not to let her see how deeply her words cut.

I met her gaze steadily. "I'm always eager to learn, Mrs. Thorne."

At this moment the dessert was served, Elizabeth leaned back and eyed me with a calculating look. "You know, Amelia, first impressions are very important in our social circles. It's crucial to present oneself appropriately, especially dressing. Perhaps next time, you can consult me before making such... interesting choices."

I met her gaze steadily. "Thank you for the advice, Mrs. Thorne. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind."

Maxwell squeezed my hand under the table. I felt a slow burn of anger rising within me as I met Elizabeth's gaze, my eyes hardening. It was infuriating to witness the way Elizabeth spoke with such authority about Maxwell, as if she truly understood him.

Yet, I knew the man behind the mask, the complexities that Elizabeth seemed oblivious to.

"Amelia, dear," Elizabeth sneered, "I hear you studied art history. How quaint. And what do you do with such a... niche education?"

I forced a smile, my tone measured. "I work in a gallery, Mrs. Thorne. I curate exhibitions and help artists gain exposure. It's something I'm passionate about."

Elizabeth's lips curled into a dismissive smirk. "Passion is all well and good, but stability and prestige are what truly matter, wouldn't you agree?"

Before I could respond, Maxwell intervened, his voice strained. "Mother, Amelia's work is important to her. And to me."

Elizabeth glanced at her son, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. "Of course, Maxwell. I just hope you both know what you're doing."

The rest of the dinner continued in the same vein, with Elizabeth delivering veiled insults and condescending remarks. I held my composure, but the simmering anger remained. As the evening drew to a close, I couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and frustration, that I just wanted to vent.

Back in the car, Maxwell sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Amelia. She's... difficult."

I looked out the window, my voice quiet but firm. "She doesn't know you, Maxwell. Not really. And she certainly doesn't know us."

Maxwell reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. "I know. Thank you for enduring tonight. It means a lot to me."

I looked up at him, my voice edged with exhaustion and frustration. "All that happened back there? Really? I'm tired of all this, Maxwell.”

Finally, dinner was over, and we all got into the car. Maxwell's mother refused to ride in the same car with me, so Maxwell had to make arrangements for her. The tension in the air was palpable as we drove home in separate vehicles.

When we finally arrived, everyone went to their respective rooms without a word. The weight of the evening's events pressed heavily on me, making it impossible to relax. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the stinging remarks from Elizabeth replaying in my mind.

Unable to bear it any longer, I reached for my phone and dialed my mother's number. It rang twice before she answered, her voice warm and familiar.

"Amelia, sweetie, it's late. Is everything okay?"

"No, Mom," I replied, my voice trembling. "I just... I needed to talk to you."

"Tell me what's going on," she said gently.

I took a deep breath and recounted the entire evening, from the shopping trip with Maxwell to the dinner where Elizabeth had relentlessly undermined me. My mother's patient silence on the other end of the line was a comforting presence.

"Mom, it's just so hard. She doesn't know him like I do, and she certainly doesn't know us."

My mother sighed. "Amelia, these things take time. I know it's difficult, but you have to be strong. Maxwell loves you, and that's what matters most."

"But what if it's not enough?" I whispered, feeling a tear slip down my cheek.

"It will be," she said firmly. "You just need to stay put and give it time. Things will sort themselves out. Trust in your relationship with Maxwell, and don't let his mother's behavior shake your confidence."

I nodded, even though she couldn't see me. "Okay, Mom. I'll try."

"Good. Now get some rest, sweetheart. We'll talk more tomorrow."

"Thanks, Mom. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Amelia. Love you."

"Love you too."

I hung up the phone, feeling a little more at ease. My mother's words echoed in my mind as I settled back into bed.

“That woman!” I gritted my teeth recurring all what she said-