If I’m here with Alexander because of his money, but I know I’m not. I have never once agreed to anything with Alex because of his money.
I stay frozen. The echo of her heels still rings in my ears even though she’s already gone.
The hallway is empty now, but it feels as if the walls are closing in. Her words are still hovering in the air, sinking into my skin, one by one.
I hate her.
I hate that she got under my skin so easily. I hate that I let her.
My heart’s still racing. My fingers tremble where they grip my phone. I don’t realize how hard I hold onto it until I hear a soft footstep behind me.
“Lucas.”
I turn. His presence and voice hit me like they always do—anchoring and overwhelming.
Alex.
He looks at me, expression unreadable at first, but something shifts in his eyes as they scan my face. He notices. The tension. The too-tight grip on my phone. The way I try not to meet his eyes. He steps closer. No one else could make a hallway feel like it suddenly belonged only to us.
“Everyone’s moving to the backyard for dinner,” he says, voice low.
I nod slowly, but I don’t move. Not yet.
He frowns, just barely.
“What’s wrong?”
The question makes something in my chest tighten. I want to fall into him and just stay there. But instead, I shake my head.
He doesn’t buy it. And closes the space between us, so close that his scent and warmth make me want to wrap myself around him.
“Did someone say something to you?” he asks, and it’s quiet, but there’s a dangerous edge to his voice.
“No,” I manage to say, looking up at him and masking whatever emotions that are on my face, “I’m fine, I just wanted a little break from the crowd. It was a little bit loud with my hearing aid.”
He studies my face for a while, and I let him. The look he’s giving me says he doesn’t believe me, but he sighs and steps back.
“Come on,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to talk. Just stay beside me.”
And even though part of me still feels like I’m falling apart, I move toward him. Because being next to him—right now—is the only place that feels remotely safe.
He walks beside me, one hand gently resting on the small of my back like he knows I need the steady pressure. Like he’s silently saying, I’m here.
TWENTY-THREE
LUCAS
A long, endless table stretches across the open field, draped in deep navy linens and soft ivory runners. Tiny golden lights hang above like stars caught in a web, casting a warm glow over everyone’s faces. Candles flicker between tall wine glasses and artfully arranged flowers, and the soft hum of music floats on the evening breeze.
It’s beautiful. Magical even. But all I can feel is the knot in my stomach.
Alex guides me to our seats, his hand still warm on the small of my back. We sit side by side, and his shoulder brushes mine in a way that feels deliberate. Protective.
There are already so many people here—maybe forty or more. I see Ashley sitting beside Ivana, and she gives me a warm smile. The table is alive with conversation, laughter, and silverware clinking against porcelain. Servers move fluidly between guests, pouring wine, setting down plates of food that look like they belong in a magazine.
I don’t touch any of it.
I can’t.
