“You’re my star. That’s what you are “he sings in my ear as my hips sway.
“For her,” he murmurs.
“For her,” I echo.
We move slowly. Intimately. Enjoying the connection.
I let my cheek rest briefly against his chest. The scent of his cologne wraps around me. His heartbeat feels steady beneath my palm.
Tonight isn’t about proving anything. It’s about honoring her joy. After a few songs, Calil leans down and kisses my temple.
“Champagne?” he asks.
“Always.”
I feel a familiar stare when Calil slips away toward the bar.
I turn and my stomach drops.
Damon Jackson.
Of all nights.
He stands there in a navy tux, looking polished and falsely comfortable. He gives me a smile like we ran into each other at brunch instead of in the middle of my partner’s memorial gala.
“Zaria?” he says, feigning surprise. “Wow. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
I blink slowly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shifts awkwardly. “I just… didn’t know you dated men and women.”
I let out a humorless laugh.
“Why would you?” I reply coolly. “I was just a midnight monster for you. You had no plans to know me deeply.”
His face tightens.
“That’s not fair,” he says quietly. “I handled things wrong. I was young. Scared.”
“Scared of what?” I ask. “Being seen with me in the daylight?”
He exhales. “I loved you.”
“No,” I correct calmly. “You loved what I did for you in private.”
His jaw flexes.
“I wanted a family,” he says defensively.
“And you propose to another woman at my favorite restaurant,” I reply flatly. “Then told me we’d never work because you wanted kids.”
He looks away briefly.
“I didn’t know things would turn out like this,” he mutters.
“Like what?”
He hesitates. “She… can’t have kids.”
