He laughed a loud, dismissive sound that carried through the cold night air and ushered them inside.
The main house was glowing.
Through the large living room windows, I could see the party in full swing.
The custom smart lights were pulsing with vibrant colors synced perfectly to the heavy bass of the music that vibrated the ground beneath my feet.
Waiters in crisp white shirts circulated with trays of champagne and expensive appetizers.
Sarah was in her element.
I watched her glide through the room in a stunning gold dress, laughing too loudly, playing the perfect affluent hostess.
She looked completely at ease, thoroughly convinced that she was entirely self-sufficient.
She had completely forgotten about the woman sitting in the dark, paying for the very lights shining on her face.
I didn’t feel sad watching them.
Strangely, I felt detached, as if I were watching a movie about strangers.
I had spent so much time trying to earn their respect through generosity, failing to realize that endless generosity without boundaries only breeds contempt.
I poured myself a fresh cup of tea and settled into my comfortable armchair with a good book.
Every now and then, I glanced at the small digital clock on my bookshelf.
The hours ticked by peacefully.
9:00, 10:00, 11:00.
The energy in the main house was reaching a fever pitch.
The music grew louder, the laughter more rockous.
The caterers were beginning to clear the food stations, preparing for the final midnight rush.
I closed my book, rested my hands on my lap, and watched the red digital numbers on my clock change.
It was almost time.
At 11:45 p.m., the atmosphere in the main house shifted toward the grand finale.
Through the large bay windows, I could see the massive flat screen television illuminating the living room with the live broadcast from Time Square.
The guests were gathering in the center of the room, dawning shiny paper hats and blowing plastic horns.