My Baby's First Birthday Banquet

The crystal chandelier in the banquet hall was dazzling, making my head spin, while the entire table was draped with red silk scattered with crushed wedding candies. I held Amy in my arms, my fingertips brushing against the soft little socks inside her swaddling. Today was Amy's birthday banquet. The laughter of relatives carried with the aroma of the food. I had thought this would be the most peaceful day of my life. Vivian Lincoln strode over in her glittering high heels, snatched the microphone, and with a sharp voice like a balloon popping, shouted, "Congratulations to Jim Carter for becoming a father! Too bad it's a girl—if you got me pregnant back then, our son should be a year old by now!" The laughter in the room suddenly stopped; the air felt frozen, and even the clinking of chopsticks against plates vanished. Amy shivered slightly from fright, and I hurriedly pulled her closer into my arms, my fingertips turning icy cold. Vivian Lincoln saw my pale face and stuck out her tongue, feigning innocence: "Just kidding!" Jim Carter walked over, casually draping his arm over Vivian's shoulder, his fingertips brushing her earlobe with a familiarity that tightened my chest: "Nonsense again—you can't handle your drink but still try to act tough." Vivian Lincoln leaned into his arms, pinching his waist: "I have you here for me anyway." I suddenly lifted the wine glass, and a few drops of wine splashed onto the tablecloth. The next second, the wine was completely thrown onto Vivian Lincoln's face. The cold liquid trickled down her bangs, and her delicate makeup instantly smeared into a mess. "Sober now?" A collective gasp swept through the crowd; some took a step back, their eyes wide with shock. Vivian wiped her face, wine drops clinging to her lashes, sneering, "I came with good intentions to congratulate you— is this how your family treats guests?" Jim Carter rushed over to defend Vivian Lincoln. I looked into his eyes and saw his protectiveness; my heart felt like it was being stabbed with needles — it turned out that Amy's and my dignity didn't even compare to a single joke from Vivian. The yellow-hair man sneered, "You're even worse than Jim's ex-girlfriends!' Another person joined in, "Vivian's a tomboy. We've shared a bed since childhood. You can't even take a joke?" Someone pointed at me, speaking firmly, "You embarrassed Vivian in public. Aren't you supposed to apologize?" Jim Carter's face darkened. He grabbed a freshly opened bottle of liquor, twisted off the cap, and the strong smell of liquor drifted over. "Honey, apologize to Vivian, and let's just drop it." "Are you seriously asking me to drink alcohol?" My fingers turned white as I gripped tightly, unable to believe it. Did he forget I'm allergic to alcohol? Forget last year when I took a sip for him and almost ended up in the ICU? Forget how he knelt beside my bed at discharge, swearing he would never let me touch a drop again? Jim Carter pulled me aside, whispering, "Just have a little drink. I brought allergy medicine; it'll be fine." I sneered, pointing at the front door, "Today is Amy's one-month birthday banquet. If you're here to cause trouble, then leave!" Vivian Lincoln grabbed Jim Carter's arm, "Since your family doesn't welcome us, then we'll leave. Jim, you have a family now, and you don't even care about the friend you grew up with?" Jim panicked, let go of my hand, and quickly moved to soothe Vivian. I held Amy and turned to leave, but the little one tugged at my collar. Jim Carter caught up with me and wrapped his arms around my waist: "Anna, stop it." I pulled his hands away, expressionless: "Jim Carter, let's get a divorce." "All this over a joke?" He was momentarily stunned, then softened his tone: "Fine. I’ll let you name our daughter, okay?" I shook my head: "You know what's going on between you and Vivian. I won't stand in your way." "Vivian and I have been childhood sweethearts. Why are you jealous?" He laughed and reached out to tickle my nose, but I dodged. "Vivian has no one to take care of her. If something happens to her, I can't just do nothing. But from now on, I'll listen to you." "On our wedding day, you were late by half a day because you were taking care of drunken Vivian," I cried, tears falling onto baby Amy swaddled in my arms. "When I was signing the consent for the C-section, you disappeared the entire day to treat Vivian's burn from spilling instant noodles. Amy has a high fever of 39 degrees. You disappeared for two days, going up the mountain with Vivian to watch the stars. He chuckled softly, without a hint of guilt: "It's all between friends, don't make a fuss over it." Suddenly, laughter erupted in the hall. I turned to see Vivian deliberately lowering her collar, revealing a plunging neckline and her dazzling pale skin. "Vivian has such an incredible figure!" The boy wearing glasses reached out, trying to touch her. Jim Carter rushed over and slapped his hand away, shielding Vivian Lincoln behind him, his eyes ice-cold: "Try touching her once! Everyone turn around—whoever dares touch her will have their hand cut off!"