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Aria’s eyes widen and a delicate blush spreads across her cheeks.
She doesn’t look at me again as she takes her seat, but the message has been received. I can see it in the way she glances down, her teeth nibbling on her lower lip.
She can tell me it’s over all she wants, that she doesn’t want to be with me, but I know the truth.
Aria makes me feel all these things I can’t quite understand.
Now fate is fucking mocking me, dangling something I can’t reach right in front of my eyes.
Is this fucking hell?
Yet, despite how beautiful she looks, I’m consumed by a bite of jealousy.
Aria’s not wearing that gown for me. She’s not here for me. She’s not getting engaged to me.
I try to distract myself during the dinner, the food and steady flow of wine helping ease some of the tension in my shoulders.
The clinking of a glass pierces through the air, drawing all eyes toward the head of the table. Philip Kastellanos rises to his feet with a commanding presence.
“Welcome, everyone. And thank you for joining us on this joyful occasion to mark the engagement of my beautiful daughter, Aria, and Andrew Galanis.”
Poutánas yos. This is all his fault.
Andrew leans over and murmurs something in Aria’s ear, causing her to smile, even though it looks strained. He then wraps his arm around her shoulders, and she leans into him. Intense rage courses through me like a wildfire. That’s my girl.
Suddenly, the room seems to grow hotter.
I push my chair back from the table, the wood scraping against the floor. A few people at our table startle, looking over at me. Evander gives me a warning glare to sit back down, but I can’t think of anything over the pounding of my heart in my ears. Rage is boiling inside me. I get off my seat and run across the dance floor, fists clenched, to where Philip is standing.
There are some shocked yells before I start releasing a torrent of blows at his face, each strike landing on his nose. The cracking of his bones reverberates in the air.
Hands grab at me, attempting to pull me back, but I refuse to stop.
Voices blur into background noise, drowned out by the thundering of blood in my ears.
“Dion.”
Aria’s screams pierce through the chaos, a desperate plea for reason, but it’s as if her words are lost in the storm raging within me. “Dion.”
My vision narrows to a tunnel, oblivious to anything else around me.
“Dion,” the voice is louder now, and the chaotic scene dissipates like smoke in the wind.
I blink, disoriented, and turn round.
“What the fuck, bro?” Evander hisses, staring at me with concern and confusion. “It looked like you were about to have a seizure.”
The violent confrontation was all in my head. I blink a few more times, trying to dispel the lingering remnants of the vivid illusion. It was just a fantasy, a dark figment of my imagination.
“Holy fuck. I’m so drunk,” is all I manage to say, words slurring.
“Dion, come on, man,” Evan’s voice is gentle but firm, as he helps me to my feet. “Let’s get you home.”
I sway unsteadily, the alcohol still in my system, but I nod in agreement. “Yeah, okay.”
Evan wraps an arm around my waist, supporting me as we make our way out of the crowded room. The stares of the onlookers feel like daggers, piercing through the haze with judgment and pity.
As I stumble down the hall, my vision blurred, I see Dimitri at the other end. Our eyes meet, and I can tell he’s waiting for some sign from me. I shake my head, signaling that the plan with Aria didn’t work out. He understands immediately, his face falling. His shoulders slump, mirroring my own disappointment. I turn away.
