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“You, too.” I force a smile as he wraps me in a bear hug, his cologne overwhelming. It’s the expensive kind, the sort that screams ‘trust fund baby,’ and he knows it.
“And this is…” He gestures to his new girlfriend.
“Madison.” She flashes her perfect teeth.
“Mykel, darling!” Mom swoops in, all smiles and charm, probably calculating Madison’s net worth and family connections. “How wonderful.”
I stand there, forgotten, watching as she fusses over him, straightening his collar and cooing over his new girlfriend. It’s like I’ve ceased to exist, a ghost in my own family.
My stomach lurches, and I swallow hard, forcing down the rising bile.
Not now. Not here.
I just need to get through dinner. One hour, two max. Smile. Nod. Push the food around, and don’t think about the bathroom upstairs with its lock that sticks and its fan that drowns out everything else.
Don’t think about Brandon.
Don’t think at all.
Then, I can go home and fall apart in peace.
A familiar voice drifts from the living room. Is that Anne? Did she really come?
I peek around the corner to find her perched on the leather couch. Her blonde hair catches the light, making her look almost ethereal. But it’s her smile that stops me, real and unguarded, reaching all the way to her eyes. I haven’t seen that smile in so long.
The reason for it looms beside her. Landon fucking Edmunds, all scary and cold, his hand resting on the small of Anne’s back, possessive yet gentle. The sleeve of his fitted shirt doesn’t quite hide the edge of his tattoos, and the contrastbetween them is stark, her light to his darkness, her delicate grace to his raw strength.
And both absolutely perfect.
Radiating the kind of confidence that comes from being absolutely certain of your place in the world.
Mom must hate that.
But I’m happy for her, although I was skeptical about Landon myself when I first met him.
“I told you the gallery opening would be worth it.” His voice is low, meant just for her, but it carries.
“You did not.” Anne tilts her head, a ghost of her usual perfect posture returning. “You said, and I quote, ‘Trust me, you’ll hate it less than staying home.’”
“Same thing,” His gaze lingers on her.
My stomach churns again. Not from hunger, never from hunger. Guilt maybe? Or fear? Because Anne looks… happy. Really happy. And Landon looks at her like she’s the only person in the room.
This is good.
Acid climbs up my throat. I should go back, make some excuse about a work emergency…
“Naomi?” Anne spots me, crossing the room and hugging me. “How long have you been standing there?”
I stiffen, my arms hanging awkwardly at my sides.
I don’t deserve this. Not from her.
“Careful with the dress.” I try to joke, but it comes out sharp. Wrong. “It’s new. I’m sorry.”
Her gaze lingers on my face, assessing. “You okay?”
“Yes. Of course.” I smooth it out, creating distance. “And you?”