They’re just normal, and I could pretend like everything was fine and well. I could stay stuck in a terrible relationship, simply hoping that time would heal all the flaws and the guy would magically morph into Prince Charming…
I’d had them off all this week, and for some reason, there weren’t any red flags whenever I saw Asher at all.
There was just pain.
“Ohhhh, the lobby is so beautiful!” “I heard this was a Katie Elizabeth wedding. Is that true?” “I can’t wait until I get married so I can book her company…”
The shrill voices snapped me out of my thoughts, and I splashed my face with cold water.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been staring at my reflection in this parlor room, but I was willing to bet it was at least two hours.
If this were any other day, I would put on a smile and introduce myself to them, but I couldn’t utter a single sentence without breaking down.
Or without thinking of Asher.
Come on, Katie. You can do this. You can do this…
I splashed my face again and took a deep breath.
As I was drying my hands, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Michelle
We’re about to start…Where are you?
I looked at my reflection, made sure there was no redness in my eyes, and headed for the ballroom.
The ballroom was already glowing—soft candlelight, polished glass, and perfectly arranged centerpieces that should’ve made me proud.
Instead, it all felt distant.
Asher was holding the door open, his sleeves rolled, his fingers gripping the handle a little too tightly.
He looked as miserable as I felt.
His eyes met mine as I neared, and something in my chest tightened hard enough to make me falter for half a step.
As much as I wanted to look away, I couldn’t.
I held onto his gaze until I walked through the door.
I checked the name cards at the place settings and sighed when I realized Michelle and Chris had placed me directly across from Asher.
Close enough to see every flicker of emotion on his face.
Close enough to remember exactly how it felt to be within reach.
Settling into my chair, I put on the best fake smile in my arsenal and kept my gaze toward the other side of the table.
I could feel Asher staring at me between courses, the weight of it crawling along my skin, daring me to look his way, but I refused.
This was the final page in our story.
No second-chance redemption chapters, no epilogue…
Just… “the end.”
Thirty
