Chapter 287: When in Doubt, Change the Subject

When I stepped back into the ballroom, I had somehow managed to reassemble my face.

But inside, I was just one small annoyance away from wanting to dive into the nearest decorative fountain and let myself drown in a couple inches of water.

Luckily, there wasn’t one close by; considering how my night had been going, I probably would’ve made that look overly theatrical.

The wedding reception was still in full swing without me, which felt a bit rude, especially since I had just spent the last few minutes outside having my emotional stability battered by a guy I hadn’t seen in almost four years.

Inside, everything was so painfully cheerful. The music was blasting, laughter was filling the air, and someone near the dance floor was trying out a move that looked like it might need medical attention.

Glasses were clinking under warm lights, and the whole room smelled of flowers, fancy food, and whatever perfume people wore when they had enough cash to fill several bottles.

Meanwhile, I returned to the reception, carrying the emotional burden of a burning building in my chest.

Naturally, no one seemed to notice.

Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. Maya picked up on it right away. She was by one of the tables with Joey and Natasha.

As soon as she saw me, her expression shifted. It wasn’t a dramatic change; she didn’t gasp or point like I was a war hero coming back with a missing arm. No, she just narrowed her eyes in a way that said she was about to make my troubles her own... whether I wanted that or not.

I quickly looked away.

There were several reasons for this. First, I was a grown-up. Second, I could handle my own issues. And third, if she asked me if I was okay, I might just lie right to her face. So steering clear of her felt like the healthiest choice.

I made my way toward the bar, determined to stay upright and approach any further social interactions with extreme caution.

Before I got there, Connor noticed me. He was chatting with one of the groomsmen, but when he spotted me, he excused himself and came over with a look that said he was genuinely happy to see me, which made me feel a bit guilty for having spent the last twenty minutes wishing I could just disappear.

"There you are," he said.

I almost laughed. The fact that he seemed to have been looking for me shouldn’t have felt strange, but it did. Mainly because the last person who was looking for me was the same one who’d just made me want to vanish into thin air.

"Congrats, you found me. Your detective skills are a bit terrifying," I replied.

Connor smiled, but his gaze scrutinized my face a little more closely. "You okay?"

There it was... the dreaded question. Four innocent letters that could spoil an entire evening.

As I reached for a glass of water at the bar, I hoped hydration might somehow erase the last hour.

"Fantastic," I said.

Connor raised an eyebrow. "You look like someone just told you your taxes are getting audited."

"I teach university students for a living. My taxes are the least scary part of my life."

That got him to laugh, and for a moment, the tightness in my chest eased just enough for me to breathe properly.

Connor leaned an elbow on the bar, looking relaxed, like someone who hadn’t just spent the evening getting blindsided by the past.

"Did something happen outside?"

"No." I blurted it out too quickly.

I took a sip of water and concentrated hard on the condensation on the glass. Connor watched me. I focused on the glass. Thankfully, it didn’t start asking uncomfortable questions.

"Okay," he finally said after a pause.

I glanced back at him. That was it? No pushing, no concerned speeches, no attempts to coax me into revealing my feelings like we were in some low-budget therapy ad? Just "okay." For some odd reason, that made me feel a bit guilty.

I cleared my throat. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize, you and I just met after all."

"I know." I paused, then frowned. "Actually, scratch that...I just hate when people ask me if I’m fine."

Connor chuckled again. "You’re interesting."

"That sounds like something someone says when they’re trying hard not to call someone weird."

"I was thinking more along the lines of handsome, actually."

I gaped at him as Connor smiled into his drink.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

Connor’s smile softened. "Anytime."

For a bit, I stood there trying to keep up a conversation with him. My body was in the ballroom, but my mind was still outside.

’I never forgot you.’

Those words trailed behind me as I walked back in. They lingered even when I forced a smile at people.

Still there when Joey’s uncle asked about my job. Still there when Natasha dragged Joey onto the dance floor, making him look like he forgot how to move altogether.

Damien had said he hadn’t forgotten me, and I hated him for it. I hated that a part of me wanted to believe him.

I hated that another part had spent four years waiting for just that. I hated how, when he said my name outside, something in me reacted before my brain could catch up.

Four years. Four whole years. He left. He went back to his family, becoming exactly what everyone expected Damien Lockwood to be.

The CEO, the businessman. The well-known figure whose face popped up on TV in my dad’s living room.

While I, on the other hand, had moved back into a cheap dorm, finished college, watched Joey fall in love, got a job, moved home, learned how to transfer my dad from his wheelchair to the bed without grunting in frustration, and built a quiet life for myself.

One that Damien hadn’t been a part of.

So no, I wasn’t going to let a few comments at Joey’s wedding tear down four years of carefully constructed emotional defenses.

Absolutely not. I was stronger than that. Probably.

Maya caught my eye from across the room, and I turned to Connor with the urgency of someone who just spotted an interrogation coming.

"Tell me more about celebrity management."

Connor blinked. "Uh..."

"Anything."

The rest of the reception passed in a blur of forced smiles and strategic moves to keep me as far from Maya and the terrace doors as possible.

I smiled when I needed to, congratulated Joey and Natasha again, and took photos.

There was one particularly embarrassing group shot where Joey insisted on standing on a chair because, in his words, "the lighting makes me look short."

"Or maybe you’re just fucking short," Maya pointed out.

"I’m average height!"

By the end of the night, I was worn out enough to consider snagging one of the centerpieces and hiding under a table. But instead, I decided to leave.

Joey noticed when I started putting on my jacket. "You’re leaving already?"

"Yep."

"But the party’s still going."

"And yet I have chosen life."

He frowned. "You’re acting weird tonight."

"I’ve always been weird. You just got married, so now you’re too occupied to notice."

Natasha hugged me before I could slip away. "Get home safely."

"I will."

Joey pulled me into a hug next. For a second, he held on a little tighter than usual. "You sure you’re okay? I knew we should have at least given you a heads up about Damien or something."

There it was again and I patted his back. "Your wedding is beautiful."

"That’s not an answer."

"I gave you a compliment. Don’t get greedy."

He pulled back, eyeing me suspiciously. I returned a convincing smile. It worked. Or maybe he just knew when not to press.

Either way, I escaped before anyone could start a full-blown intervention.

I didn’t see Damien again. Part of me should’ve felt relieved, but instead, I spent the entire drive home thinking about where he might be.

Not that I wanted to; I want to officially note how fucking dumb that shit was.