Chapter fifteen
Two Hours Later
Dinnerdragsonlongerthan I ever imagined.
Julian is halfway through another explanation about the timing of tomorrow’s events, gesturing wildly while Fred listens with exaggerated patience. Miranda laughs softly at something Marisol whispers to her, and Lupe discusses flowers with Véronique as if their arrangement holds the fate of the ceremony.
Plates were cleared over an hour ago. Candles burn low while wine continues to appear as if the staff senses no one is quite ready to leave. From the outside looking in, the evening looks perfect. Warm light, soft laughter, the easy rhythm of old friends sharing a long meal.
I’m playing my part. Smiling when someone looks my way. Lifting my glass when appropriate. Chatting with everyone around me. Yet, inside, my chest is equally compressed and hollow all at once.
Servers move quietly between chairs, gathering the last of the dishes. Someone mentions tomorrow’s weather. Another toast rises somewhere near the end of the table.
Exhausted from keeping up appearances, I fix my eyes on my wine glass.
Across from me, I can sense Zach watching. If I meet his gaze, the fragile composure holding me together might shatter before we leave.
Her name keeps echoing in my mind.
Lila.
It shouldn’t matter. People date. People fuck. For most of my adult life Zach and I did both with other people. We were simply friends who knew each other too well to complicate things. At least that’s the story I’ve told myself whenever the thought drifted too close to the truth.
Except we weren’t.
We were always something complicated and electric and unfinished. Something neither of us dared to name because naming it meant risking everything else.
Now we’ve crossed the line in the most spectacular way possible. I keep hearing Marisol’s voice again.
He can’t seem to hold onto anything that matters.
I twist the stem of my wine glass between my fingers and focus on breathing slowly. Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe it meant nothing.
Maybe—
No.
The worst part is he didn’t tell me.
I thought he trusted me with his secrets. Now I’m wondering if I mistook honesty for comfort. Especially if there were corners of his life I never knew existed.
“Sky?”
Marisol’s voice pulls me back into the present. I blink and realize everyone is standing. Dinner is finally over.
Chairs scrape softly across the floor as we begin drifting out the doors in clusters. Julian wraps an arm around Marisol’s shoulders and kisses her temple. The girls are already halfway to the hallway arguing about whose turn it is to brush their teeth first.
I rise carefully, smoothing my dress down with deliberate movements.
Don’t look at him.
Don’t look at him.
Don’t—too late.
Zach pushes his chair back. His eyes find mine immediately. Concern flashes across his face.
I look away.
