She’s standing at the foot of the grand staircase. Rachel. Her ivory white body covered in form fitting cream-colored silk shines like a lone star in a sea of black gowns and tuxedos.
I should go to her, but I want to admire her for a moment longer. She’s breathtaking. I watch a man standing too close to her place his hand on her lower back as he leans in and whispers something in her ear. She turns to look at him and smiles politely, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s the smile I first saw outside the gallery. Ice cold. Untouchable. And somehow, I find myself pleased that there are no traces of the Rachel who spent one uninhibited, wild night in my bed. The Rachel who I know exists under that finely manicured and expensive exterior hidden from him.
I take a swig of the beer I’d grabbed from a passing waiter. I’m about to walk toward her when I sense someone coming to stand next to me. “Ronan? Is that you?”
I turn to look at the woman on my left, taking in her familiar features. Chin-length brown hair. Very pretty. “Elly, right?” She’s the girl I brought to Lawrence’s townhouse the other day. Blaire’s best friend.
“Yep. What are you doing here? Are you work—” She catches herself, and blushes. “I’m so sorry. I can be such a dickhead at times.”
“Don’t apologize. To be honest, I’m wondering the same thing.”
She laughs, her brown eyes sparkling warmly. “Same here. This party’s insane, isn’t it?”
“You could say that.” She scans the room, taking everything in. I clear my throat and try to appear indifferent as I ask, “is Blaire here with you?”
“No, I’m here with Alessandro. His parents know the woman who’s throwing the party. Rachel, I think?”
“I see,” I say, burying a hand in the pocket of my rented tuxedo.
Elly watches me for a second too long as a small frown forms on her forehead. She’s quiet for a minute or two. “I feel like a heroine in one of those Regency books that Blaire loves so much. You know? Where the girl goes to a ball dressed in a beautiful gown and steals the duke’s heart with one dance or some shit like that.”
I stare straight ahead of me, picturing a blushing Blaire on my bed with an old paperback in her hands as she reads out loud to me. The memory makes me smile. “I always joked that I couldn’t compete against a duke.”
As soon as I utter those words, I realize the mistake I’ve just made. I steal a glance at the girl who just baited the truth out of me and see understanding dawning in her deceptively innocent face. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’re the guy Blaire was seeing over the summer. The one she was crazy about.”
I look away, flinching.
“I knew it. She stared at me funny when I mentioned your name. At the time, I thought it was my imagination, but now I see it all so clearly.”
“So what if I am? It’s over.”
“No, I don’t think so. Like Blaire, you carry your heart in your eyes,” she says quietly.
I clench my fists. Even when she’s not here, she manages to fuck with my peace of mind. There’s no reprieve from her. She once was heaven and now she’s the hell I’m burning in. “She’s part of the past. Now if you’ll excuse me,” I say, beginning to move away.
She grabs my forearm and stops me, her small hand gripping it with strength I didn’t know she possessed. “Don’t give up on her,” she pleads.
“I’m done. She made her choice, and I wasn’t it.”
“You love her. Still. I can see it in your eyes.”
“No, Elly. You’re wrong. I never loved Blaire.” I smile wryly. “I loved a lie.” I walk away then, leaving Elly behind.