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"Try," I said, my voice almost pleading. I needed to know. I needed her to tell me that what I was thinking wasn’t just a wild fantasy.
Gwen’s lips quirked into a small smile, and for the first time all morning, I saw a glimpse of the woman I knew. "You really think…?"
"I don’t know," I admitted, running a hand through my hair. "But if you are, I need to know. Please, Gwen."
She stared at me for a long moment, and then she nodded, her smile widening just a fraction. "Okay. Let’s do this."
As she took the bag from me and headed toward the bathroom, I stood there, my heart in my throat, my mind racing with possibilities. And for the first time in weeks, I felt something other than fear or guilt.
Hope.
It was a fragile, tentative hope, but it was there, and I clung to it with everything I had.
Whatever happened next, we would face it together. And that thought, more than anything, gave me the strength to breathe again.
Epilogue
Morgan
The reception was in full swing, fairy lights twinkling above us like stars. The New York Public Library had been transformed into a wedding wonderland, every inch of it dripping with opulence.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. Marble columns were wrapped in lush garlands of white roses and ivy, and elegant tables were adorned with towering centerpieces of orchids and lilies. It must have cost at least two million dollars, and every penny was visible in the grandeur of the venue.
The opulence didn't stop at the chandeliers and floral arrangements or the hand selected food and drinks. He’d even had some vineyard in France make a special brand of nonalcoholic champagne so the underaged guests could toast with everyone else. Which was honestly wild. Everywhere I looked, there were signs of the extravagance that only Atticus could pull off.
Ice sculptures of mythical creatures, a live string quartet playing softly in one corner, and waiters circulating with trays of the finest hors d'oeuvres and champagne. The air was filled with the scent of the most expensive perfumes mingling together, and laughter echoed off the marble walls.
But even in the midst of all this splendor, I couldn't shake the feeling of longing that had settled deep in my chest. Seeing Gwen so deliriously happy with Atticus made me acutely aware of the emptiness I felt.
I tried to keep my smile bright, to join in the celebrations, but my eyes betrayed me, constantly seeking out Lance in the crowd.
He was always surrounded by people, his easy charm drawing them in. But every now and then, I caught him glancing my way, his expression thoughtful, almost worried. Did he see through my facade? Did he know how much I was struggling?
Gwen and Atticus were in the center of the dance floor, spinning around in their own little world. She looked radiant, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Their happiness was infectious, spreading smiles all around.
I stood off to the side, nursing a glass of champagne, trying not to let my eyes follow Lance as he moved through the crowd. He looked dashing in his suit, laughing with Micah and some of the other guys. Every time I caught a glimpse of him, my heart did a little flip. But I couldn’t let anyone see that. Not tonight.
"Hey, Morgan," Rowan said, appearing beside me with a friendly smile. "Care to dance?"
I hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Lance again before turning back to Rowan. "Sure, why not?"
Rowan led me to the dance floor, and we started to sway to the music. He was a good dancer, confident and smooth. "You look beautiful tonight," he said, his tone casual but sincere.
"Thanks, Rowan. You clean up pretty well yourself." And he did. He was handsome with a genuine sweet smile you couldn’t help but respond to. Not to mention he was on the team of badasses my newly minted brother-in-law-again employed.
And he was closer to my age I thought. I’d heard Pierce call him the baby once.
So why didn’t I feel anything but lukewarm affection when I looked at him.
Because my pussy was an asshole.
Pussy: No, that’s the other guy.
I had to bite back my laugh as ee danced for a minute, lest he think I was insane. Just as I was starting to relax and enjoy myself when Lance stepped up, his expression unreadable, tapping Rowan on the shoulder. "Mind if I cut in?"
Rowan shrugged with a grin. "Not at all." He stepped back, and Lance took his place, his hand settling on my waist.
"Hi," he said, his voice low and familiar.
