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Lux

The ballroom is a dream. The elegant Art Deco design with bold geometric patterns, rich colors, and stunning crystal chandeliers are everything I would have loved for my wedding years ago. Younger Lux would have swooned, imagining photos of myself in my white, long-sleeve gown against the fancy wall coverings or dancing in the middle while four hundred people watched me and my husband.

The thought makes my stomach dip now.

One, because I wouldn’t want that many people. Only those who love me and are truly happy for me. Two, because I don’t give a rat’s ass what all those people think, so I wouldn’t entertain them and share my happiest moment. Three, and most important, I don’t have a husband, fiancé, or even a boyfriend.

I take a swig of champagne to quell the bitterness on my tongue. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind the punch table. This is such a great look. Maeven made good on her promise. Clotho sent this gorgeous peacock-inspired gown with gradient panels of blue, emerald, turquoise, gold, and bronze, which fade into a spectrum. Lauren jumped on the phone and guided the makeup artist to achieve the perfect eye to match my outfit while ensuring my face makeup was minimal but enhanced. I look like a polished million bucks, but I feel sharp like a five-dollar box cutter.

“It’s time to present Mateo with the foundation’s award,” someone says behind me.

I turn to face Mateo’s sister, Wandy. I wasn’t surprised to learn she’s the event coordinator. She’s sporting a pink gown and a worried look. I heard she doesn’t think having me here is a good idea after she heard what happened this morning. I don’t give a fuck and smile, letting my eyes linger over her face as I take the speech from her hand.

“Thank you,” I say and walk away from her. The timer on my phone lets me know I have five contractual minutes left. I head to the stage, catching Maeven in her white fitted gown. The color of freedom, as she called it earlier. I smile at her, and she winks at me.

I climb the steps to the stage and step up to the microphone, pasting on a smile as I face the audience.

“Well, it’s been a whirlwind of a night, and I think we have done a fantastic job for the Cross Foundation. While we are still waiting on the final amount raised, the foundation wanted to take a moment to recognize its founder.”

I pause as people begin to applaud, and I see Mateo getting ready to walk to the stage once I’m done, and a fire begins to roar in my belly because I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be in the position to toast him. I try to force myself to read the speech, but I can’t. No, I’m going to wing this my way.

“All of New York knows Mateo—from rabid baseball fans, the children who attend the Cross Foundation camps, to his groupies, and of course…the waitresses at Parlay in the Park.”

The audience gasps, and I press my lips together playfully. Then everyone laughs.

“Hey, it’s on the paper right here.” I hold up the speech, and more laughter ensues. “We are all grateful for his dedication to the children. When he makes a promise to the Cross Foundation, he keeps it. He doesn’t divide his loyalties with other charities or allocate the money to something else. Nope, he’s loyal…to the kids. That’s how I know he will be a great dad. He told me earlier how he cannot wait until his baby is born to give him or her the world. As a friend, I am happy to hear that and wish him the best of luck and more success to the Cross Foundation. It will continue to make a great difference in the lives of children, like Mateo has done with many young women here in New York.”

Laughter ensues again, and it drowns out the beeping of my phone.

“Well, it’s my time to stop talking and invite the man of the hour on stage.”

The audience claps, and Mateo approaches. His face is a little pale. When he leans to hug me, he keeps his distance.

“Luxxy—”

“Go to hell,” I whisper and walk off the stage.

His sister meets me at the bottom of the steps.

“Lux, why would you do that? You ruined the night for him.”

I smiled at her. “He ruined my whole day. Now, kindly step out of my way.”

I move forward, and she has no choice. I wave at Maeven and Fabian but don’t stop walking until I am out of the ballroom. I am almost free, and I can taste it. I hand my ticket to one of the attendants who goes to fetch my car and jacket.

“Luciana.”

I don’t swear like I want to. For two hours, I’ve avoided contact with Marilyn, but I turn around to face her now. She’s wearing a baby-blue satin gown that stops at her calf and the Manolos I got her for her birthday. She looks beautiful, except for the deep frown marring her face.

“Hi, Marilyn.”

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Better than ever, but on my way out.”

“You got your digs in at Mateo back there.” The reproach is in her words and the dry tone she wields like a sword.

It doesn’t land like it usually does. “I could’ve said a lot worse. But I don’t expect you to understand. You’re always on his side.”