Beneath The Surface

Chapter 18 : Mask of Composure

--- Bella's POV ---

As we return to the table, Marco's gentle kiss on my shoulder sends a shiver of excitement down my spine, igniting a warm fire within me. I can't help but steal a glance at him, my heart fluttering at the tender gesture.

Ace's voice breaks the silence, drawing my attention back to him. "So, Bella, where are you from?" he asks, his tone casual yet curious.

I meet Ace's gaze, offering him a small smile. "I'm from New York," I reply, keeping my answer brief, not wanting to delve into too much detail about my past.

Ace nods, seeming to accept my answer. "Ah, the Big Apple," he remarks with a grin. "Interesting place."

The conversation flows effortlessly from there, with Ace sharing a bit about himself and Marco chiming in from time to time. Despite the underlying tension between the three of us, there's a sense of camaraderie and ease in the air as we chat and laugh together.

After a while, I catch Marco's eye and give him a warm smile, feeling comfortable in his presence. "I'm just going to use the restroom," I announce, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the facilities.

"Sure thing, Bella. Take your time," Marco replies, his voice reassuring as he gives my hand a gentle squeeze.

Ace nods in agreement, a friendly grin on his face. "No rush. We'll be right here when you get back," he says, his tone casual and welcoming.

With a nod of thanks, I leave the table, feeling a sense of ease despite the questions lingering in the back of my mind. As I make my way to the restroom, I can't help but wonder about the bond between Marco and Ace, intrigued by the way they seem to share an unspoken understanding.

As I step into the restroom, relief washes over me momentarily as I confirm that my hair and makeup are still intact. I run my fingers through my hair, smoothing out any stray strands. The dim lighting of the restroom casts a soft, flattering glow, enhancing the crimson hue of my dress and accentuating my features. I tilt my head, examining my reflection with a critical eye, ensuring that my makeup is still flawless.

Exiting the restroom, I'm met with a sight that sends chills down my spine. Across the dance floor, amidst the swirling sea of elegant dresses and sharp suits, stands a figure from my past. His presence looms large, casting a shadow over the festivities.

I freeze in place, my heart hammering in my chest as I struggle to comprehend what I'm seeing. It can't be him, I tell myself, my mind refusing to accept the reality of the situation. But deep down, I know the truth, I've been found.

Panic courses through me, threatening to overwhelm my senses. I want to turn and flee, to disappear into the crowd and never look back. But fear roots me to the spot, paralyzing me with its icy grip.

As I stand there, grappling with my inner turmoil, I catch his gaze. It's brief, just a fleeting moment in time, but it's enough to send a shiver down my spine. In those eyes, I see a hunger, a hunger for something long denied.

With a trembling hand, I reach for the nearest surface, steadying myself against the onslaught of emotions threatening to consume me. I can't face him, not now, not ever. But as I glance back one last time before slipping away, I know that the past has finally caught up with me, and there's nowhere left to hide.

I take a deep breath, willing myself to regain control of my racing heart and trembling limbs. With each step, I plaster on a mask of composure, concealing the turmoil raging within me. I can't afford to let Marco or Ace see any hint of distress, I need to keep up appearances, to maintain the illusion of normalcy.

As I approach the table, I force a smile onto my lips, hoping it doesn't falter under their scrutiny. Marco and Ace are engaged in conversation, their voices blending into a comforting hum in the background. I slide into my seat, my movements deliberate and measured, as if nothing out of the ordinary has just occurred.

"Everything okay?" Marco's voice cuts through the air, tinged with concern. I nod, offering a reassuring smile that feels as fragile as glass. "Just needed a moment," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within me.

Ace's gaze flickers over me, his expression unreadable. I can't shake the feeling that he senses something amiss, that he sees through the facade I've carefully constructed. But he says nothing, simply returning to the conversation at hand.

I exhale a silent sigh of relief, grateful for the temporary reprieve. But even as I participate in the discussion, my mind is elsewhere, haunted by the specter of my past and the uncertainty of what lies ahead.