Before I could muster a response, Damon cupped my face, his touch warm yet distant. "Tonight’s a great night," he said, his voice laced with anticipation. "There’s an annual event hosted by one of my business partners. Some of my friends will be there."
I parted my lips to speak, to ask if this was his way of patching things up or avoiding the cracks entirely, but he silenced me with a kiss. It wasn’t tender; it was possessive, commanding. I stood frozen as his lips moved against mine, robbing me of the words I so desperately wanted to scream. When he pulled back, I turned and headed upstairs to our room, moving like a lifeless puppet.
That evening, we arrived at the event. The venue was lavish, sparkling with chandeliers and the murmur of expensive conversations. I tried to focus on the grandeur, the soft hum of music, but my attention wavered the moment Miranda came into view.
She wore a crimson dress, fitted perfectly to her body, with a plunging neckline that left little to the imagination. The fabric shimmered under the light, drawing all eyes to her. She moved with an air of confidence, her lips painted in the same shade as her dress. My chest tightened, and a wave of inadequacy washed over me. I felt invisible in my simple black gown, standing in her radiant shadow.
Miranda greeted Damon with a hug, her arms lingering around his neck, followed by a kiss on his cheek that seemed too familiar for comfort. He didn’t pull away; instead, his lips curved into a faint smile.
She turned to me, her eyes sparkling with feigned sincerity. "Hey, Amara. I found out yesterday it was your seventh anniversary…"
Her voice was sweet, too sweet. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. "Mine and Damon’s anniversary," I corrected, the sarcasm dripping from my words. "And thanks to you, it went so well."
Damon shot me a sharp look, his jaw tightening, but I didn’t care.
Miranda, unbothered, laughed lightly. "Congratulations to you both." She stretched out a wrapped box. "Please, accept my gift."
I stared at the box, then at her, rolling my eyes before turning on my heel. Without a word, I headed for the restroom, the air around me heavy with tension.
Damon caught up with me just as I reached the hallway, his hand gripping my arm. "Amara, what was that? That’s not like you."
I yanked my arm free, glaring at him. "You wouldn’t know what I’m like anymore." With that, I stormed off, leaving him standing there.
The evening dragged on painfully. I stood on the sidelines, watching Damon and Miranda move through the crowd like a power couple. Every time I tried to approach him, she’d swoop in with her practiced charm, guiding him toward someone else under the guise of polite introductions. It was as if I wasn’t even there.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I watched her lay a hand on his arm, leaning in to whisper something that made him chuckle. My chest burned, jealousy and despair battling for dominance.
Finally, I’d had enough. I marched toward Damon, determined to tell him I was leaving. But before I could reach him, his voice stopped me.
"Miranda, you shouldn’t drink. Forgotten?"
I froze, my steps faltering.
A woman in their circle exchanged a glance with her partner. "Why, Mr. McCain? Is she sick?"
Miranda subtly glanced my way, a small, calculated smile playing on her lips. "I’m pregnant."
Gasps rippled through the group. My heart pounded, the word echoing in my ears. Pregnant?
The woman’s partner raised an eyebrow. "Really? Is it your unborn child, Damon?"
Damon smiled faintly, glancing at Miranda, who returned his gaze with a soft smile.
"So, she’s carrying your baby," the woman said, looking impressed. "I’ve heard rumors about you two. They said she’s captured your heart."
The man beside her chimed in, his tone curious. "If she’s your woman, then who’s that?" He gestured toward me. "I clearly remember meeting you with her once, Damon."
I waited, my breath caught in my throat, as Damon turned to me. His expression was distant, his voice low as he muttered, "Uh… she’s my… like a close friend."
The world tilted beneath me. A close friend? That’s all I was to him?
Before Damon could approach me, I turned and walked away, tears blurring my vision.
