Holly's fingers press against her collarbone. Catherine is standing, applauding, tears streaming down her face. She steps forward to join me as I move away from the stage.
“That was beautiful,” she says, gripping my hands. She turns and looks into the crowd, then: “Holly, dear, come here.”
HOLLY
Catherine Bellamy is hugging me.
Legit hugging me, in front of two hundred donors, her Chanel perfume enveloping us, her tears dampening my shoulder.
“Thank you,” she whispers fiercely. “Thank you for seeing him. For seeing what William built.”
She pulls back, holds me at arm's length, then hugs me again.
Someone calls her name. She squeezes my hands once more before gliding away.
I turn and face Evan.
“You've never talked about him like that before.”
"I couldn't. I was too angry." He pauses. "About who they wouldn't let me be. So I missed seeing who they helped me become." He exhales. "You helped me see that, Holly. Made me stop just surviving my family and start actually understanding them."
People are approaching, donors wanting to congratulate him, but he's not looking at them. Just at me.
“I didn't do anything?—”
"You did. I'd forgotten what it felt like to just ... be myself."
“I need some air,” I manage.
“Balcony?”
“Yeah.”
“Give me just a minute,” he says. He gestures to donors already approaching.
* * *
The cold bites immediately, but Evan’s jacket—grabbed from his chair on my way out—keeps the worst of it at bay. I need the sharp air, need something to cut through the fog in my head.
I press my palms to the stone railing.
The door opens behind me. I turn to crack a joke about donor pledges, but?—
“Holly.” Evan stops himself in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame.
“Evan, what is it?”
A second passes. Then steps right in front of me, close enough that I have to look up at him.
“Do you—” He stops, starts again. “Could we—could this ever—” His voice cracks slightly. “What if we stopped pretending?”
“What?”
“I know we have an arrangement.” His voice drops lower, rougher. “I know this started as a deal, as an act. But I can’t pretend anymore?—”
Holly
“But I can't pretend anymore—”
