I flopped onto the bed beside her, staring at the ceiling like it might offer divine intervention. “You really think this won’t end in total humiliation?”
She nudged my shoulder with hers. “Of course it will. But better to be humiliated together than alone. And maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.”
I let out another groan, dragging a pillow over my face. But deep down, beneath the nerves chewing me alive, a traitorous part of me almost believed her.
CHAPTER 25
OLIVIA
I’d let Bianca pick the dress for me, dangerous, I know, but tonight, I had to admit she’d nailed it. Midnight blue, strappy, cut in all the right places without tipping into “trying too hard.” For once, I didn’t look like I’d sprinted straight off the court with sweat still clinging to me. Tonight, I looked… well, like someone’s elegant sister.
I’d been mid-conversation with one of William’s cousins when William himself appeared, all polite smiles and that steady, calming energy that made you understand exactly why Bianca had chosen him.
“Olivia,” he said, leaning just enough to draw me out of the circle. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet. My sister. And… some of her friends.”
I smoothed my dress out of habit. William led me through the crowd, past the laughter and clatter of plates, toward the firelight where a small group stood waiting. His sister, Georgia, I remembered Bianca mentioning, was easy to spot, tall, self-assured, with the kind of grin that suggested trouble.
And beside her, two figures I hadn’t expected to see in a million years.
My chest tightened so hard I forgot how to breathe. Alexandra Cadiz. Here. At Bianca’s engagement party. Ofall the beaches in the world, she had to show up on this one, tonight, at my sister’s side.
I froze, pulse sprinting. It was ridiculous, but it felt like the universe was laughing at my expense.
“Liv, this is my sister, Georgia,” he said warmly.
Georgia turned, all sunshine confidence, and thrust her hand out. “Finally. World No. 1. Not bad for a party guest.”
I managed a laugh, though my palms were clammy. “And you’re the sister William can’t stop bragging about. Nice to finally meet you.”
“Please,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I’m just here to drink cocktails and keep William from embarrassing himself. Tonight is about Bianca and him, not me.”
I might’ve relaxed, if I hadn’t shifted my gaze an inch to the side.
Cassandra stood poised beside Alex, tall and impossibly put-together. Her blonde hair caught the firelight, and that calm, unreadable expression she wore made it impossible to tell what she was really thinking.
She offered me a small, courteous nod. “Hello, Olivia. Nice to finally meet you.”
And Alex… she looked straight at me. Her hair was pulled back in that effortless way, sharp lines of her jaw catching the glow from the lanterns. “Olivia.”
My stomach dropped. Seeing her stand there next to Cassandra. My jaw ached from holding the smile in place.
Before I could even think of a response, Georgia jumped back in, oblivious to the ice in the air. “These are my friends, Cassandra, Alex. We go way back. I had to drag them here with me.” She laughed like it was nothing.
But to me? It was everything. The shock. The ache. The jealousy I hated myself for.
I finally found my voice, thin and careful. “Welcome. Both of you.”
And for the first time in forever, I wished desperately for an escape route.
Cassandra caught my eye briefly, polite, almost reassuring, then tilted her head toward the bar. “We’ll let you and Georgia talk,” she said lightly. And just like that, they drifted off without fuss, leaving space that somehow felt like it was closing in instead of opening up.
Georgia turned back to me, her voice soft. “Looks like it’s just us for now.” She was easy to like, bright, quick with a joke, and grounded in a way that felt familiar. I found myself smiling for real as we talked about the setup.
But my focus wavered. Again and again, my eyes betrayed me. Across the room, Cassandra was in full performance mode, gesturing wildly, her French accent lilting with every punchline. And Alex was leaning in close, champagne flute in hand, her head tipped back in laughter that rang too bright, too easy.
Not once did her eyes flick my way. Not once.
I told myself it didn’t matter, that she had every right to laugh, to drink, to forget. But something sharp curled in my stomach all the same.
