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“We need to talk about it eventually.”

“No, we really don’t. You made everything perfectly clear when you walked away.”

His reflection in the window shows me the exact moment something breaks in his expression. “Kat, you don’t understand—”

“I understand enough.” I smooth my dress with hands that won’t stop shaking. “I understand that I threw myself at you like some desperate groupie, and you were decent enough to stop me before I embarrassed myself completely.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“Isn’t it?” I finally look at him directly, and the pain in his eyes nearly destroys me. “Then what was it, Liam? Because from where I was kneeling, it looked like you got what you wanted and then remembered you had better things to do.”

He flinches like I slapped him. “Christ, Kat. You think that’s what last night was?”

“What else am I supposed to think? You let me get on my knees, you let me take you in my mouth, and the second you got close to coming, you pulled away like I was contaminated.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“From what? From giving you a blow job? From wanting you?” My voice breaks on the last word. “Too late for that.

“The car slows, camera flashes strobing through the tinted windows like lightning. I can see the red carpet stretching ahead of us, photographers lined up to capture every fake smile and staged touch.

Liam runs a hand through his hair, smooths his tie, transforms into the charming persona the world expects.

“Ready?”

No.

Not even close.

I’m still choking on the sound of my own voice breaking. Still trying to hold together what’s left of my dignity after offering myself to him like it didn’t mean something.

Like it wasn’t real.

I want to scream. I want to crawl out of my skin. I want to go back and undo every breath I wasted thinking he wanted me the way I wanted him.

But mostly—I want to not care.

So I swallow all of it. The ache. The humiliation. The twisted little hope that refuses to die.

“Let’s go convince them we’re madly in love.”

I reach for the lie like it’s a second skin.

Because that’s the game, right?

Make the cameras believe. Smile just wide enough. Lean just close enough. Sell the fantasy while everything inside me burns.

I can feel it already—the sting behind my eyes, the pressure in my throat, the tightness in my chest like a scream waiting to claw its way out.

But I don’t let it.

I walk the walk.

Smile on cue.

Hand in his.

Because that’s what this night demands.