AReuThOr
I hated galas.
The fake smiles, the hollow laughter, the empty toasts-none of it meant anything. I had no interest in the watered-down deals these people made while congratulating themselves on their brilliance. They thought they were sharks, but they were minnows circling in crystal bowls.
And yet, I came.
Because she was always here.
Hillary VanCarthen.
For years, these rooms had been my excuse to watch her. To stand at the edge, a shadow among silk and sequins, and see her shine. She loved the glamour, thrived in it, and I hated it-except when it put her in my line of sight.
That was enough. That had always been enough.
Until tonight.
Tonight was different.
Tonight, I had spoken to her.
Her voice had curled around my chest like a hand. Her sharp replies, her refusal to flinch, the way her eyes had locked on mine as if I weren't just another man in the dark. For the first time in years of imagining what it would be like, I knew.
And it was worse.
Because now, I couldn't go back to watching.
I turned back to the crowd, forcing my shoulders into calm. The control I wore so easily in every other room slipped here, frayed by the memory of her eyes. She'd looked at me like she couldn't decide if I was danger or salvation. Maybe both.
I hated that it mattered.
I hated that she mattered.
But tonight had changed something. After years of shadows, I'd stepped into her light, and now it burned.
P.S.
I'm currently editing and posting at the same time so there will be new characters once a week on Mondays at 7:00 A.M