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“I love it, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You have the most amazing hair, and your makeup turned out flawless. Your date is a lucky guy. Did he get you that bracelet? Those things are pricey. You’re a lucky girl.”

Her words leave me with a pit in my stomach as I twist the bracelet Brad gave me. “It was a gift from a friend,” I say.

“I need better friends,” she jokes. “Come on, let’s get you into your dress.”

We ride the limo to the MET. Patrick and my dad are in a black tux, my mother wears a silver gown with a high neck, and I’m in a strapless black satin gown. Patrick has spent the entire ride ignoring me and sucking up to my dad and my dad annoyingly has been eating up his crap.

I want to be anywhere but here. Ria called before and said Ali ate the soup and seemed to be doing a little better. Maybe it was the flu, and I’ve been worrying over nothing.

Our limo stops, the door opens, my dad and Patrick get out first, and I follow after my mother, taking Patrick’s waiting meaty hand that makes me shudder every time I touch it. These events always blow my mind. We are here to raise money and awareness and resources for local charities, yet hundreds of thousands have gone in to hosting it when it could have gone straight to the charities. It’s just another opportunity for the rich to flaunt their wealth and status, and my mother lives for these things.

We are offered glasses of Champagne as we enter the main hall, and Patrick wastes no time inserting himself right up my dad’s ass crack. We make small talk and are introduced to someof my dad’s friends and colleagues and I do my part; I slip on my mask and play the dutiful daughter and girlfriend.

“Oh, what a beautiful couple,” a tall woman with old money blonde hair who’s clearly a fan of the filler swoons.

Patrick wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into him. I smile through gritted teeth.

“She’s a keeper. Imagine how good looking our children will be.” My jaw nearly hits the floor.

My mom’s smile is so wide she looks ready to explode. “I didn’t know things were getting this serious between you two.” She fans her face with her clutch.

It’s news to be too, Mom.

“I think your daughter could be the one, if you get my drift.” I turn my head and see Patrick wink at my mom, and she holds her hand to her chest, clutching her necklace.

Is he joking? No, this is going too far.

“Patrick, can I steal you for a moment?” I say, tugging his hand.

“Aah, young love,” someone calls from behind, but I’m too busy seeing red and storming to a quieter corner to have it out with Patrick.

I glance around, making sure no one is in earshot. “What the heck are you doing, implying marriage, babies? I didn’t agree to that. I got you here. You can butter up my dad’s friends and then we can call it quits.”

His jaw ticks and I get the sense he didn’t appreciate my tone.

“I think you are forgetting who has the power here, Gabby. If you want to dissolve this agreement, sure, we can do that. One email to your daddy and this will all be over for you.” I gulp, shrinking under his gaze. “So this,” he gestures between us, “will go as far as I say it does, got it?”

I blink back tears that threaten to fall. I’m trapped with no out. I can’t have my world crumble again, so I nod in agreement.

“Good girl.” Pressing a kiss to my forehead, he walks off without me, and I shudder at the words he used. They feel wrong coming from him. I don’t want his praise. I want him to leave me alone.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Brad

She’s here. Gabriella is at this event, standing just a foot away from me. She looks absolutely stunning in a satin gown that hugs her body, and her hair is twisted back from her face. She’s perfect. It feels unnatural to not go straight to her. To take her in my arms and hold her, especially when I can see she’s hurting. She’s been crying, her cheeks are flushed, her eyes watery and even though I’ve been in pain since she left, the pain of seeing her like this is far worse. When her name flashed across my screen last week after nearly two months of silence, I held out hope this would be the moment we came back together. But when I saw her, I just couldn’t do it to her. I can’t put her at risk. No matter how much I miss her and want her.

“Hi,” I manage to choke out; my voice has a morning gruffness to it despite it being the evening. Probably due to the excessivesmoking and the extra whiskey I’ve been consuming in her absence.

“Hi,” she says, her voice quivering as if she’s surprised to see me too. “What are you doing here?”

“I got invited by a couple of potential investors.”

“Are you with anyone?” Her eyes widen once the words leave her lips and a dick part of me is pleased that she’s bothered by the idea.

“Are you here with Patrick?” His name tastes like acid on my tongue.