Page 146 of Pretend To Be Mine

“You sold me out,” I hissed. “I can’t believe you did that!”

Then the spotlight hit me.

Blinding white light and way too many faces turning in my direction with everyone craning to see. The murmurs turned to exclamations, people standing up to get a better look. I wanted to melt into the wall and disappear. I wanted to be anywhere but here with everyone’s eyes on me.

“Go to him!” someone shouted from the crowd.

“Get up there!” another voice called.

The crowd was on their feet now, clapping rhythmically, chanting something I couldn’t quite make out through the roaring in my ears. All I could see was Adrian on that stage, frozen under the lights, staring at me like I was a miracle he’d stopped believing in.

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t process what had just happened.

Adrian had just told a room full of thousands of people that he loved me. He’d defended me publicly, praised my work, and put his own reputation on the line to salvage mine.

For me.

He’d done that for me.

My legs felt like they might give out. I gripped the wall behind me, trying to steady myself as the reality of it crashed over me in waves.

He loved me.

Adrian Blackwell loved me.

And he’d just announced it to the entire fashion world.

I pressed my hand to my chest. It was more than I’d ever dared to hope for.

“Go!” Annika gave me a gentle push. “What are you waiting for?”

But I couldn’t move. I was frozen, caught between the desperate urge to run to him and the equally strong urge to run away.

The crowd was still chanting and clapping. I could see people filming on their phones, capturing this moment that would be all over social media within minutes.

Adrian just stood there waiting. Waiting to see what I would do.

“Go!” Annika gave me a push. “What are you waiting for?”

“I can’t—I’m not—” But people were already moving aside, creating a path as they gestured me forward. Strangers were smiling at me. They were all caught up in the romance of it all.

It was insane. I hated being the center of attention. I really hated being exposed and vulnerable in front of thousands of people.

“Elizabeth.” Adrian saying my name over the loud speakers nearly did me in. “Please.”

That one word—please—broke something loose in my chest.

The vulnerability in it. The hope. The fear that mirrored my own.

I started walking past rows of seats with people all watching and filming. My legs felt like they belonged to someone else, carrying me forward on autopilot while my brain screamed that this was crazy. That insecure part of me was telling me I should run. A little alarm going off telling me I was setting myself up for heartbreak.

But my heart knew better. My heart had always known.

When I reached the steps to the stage, I hesitated. This was it. The moment where I either walked up there and faced him in front of everyone, or I turned around and ran. The moment where I chose fear or courage, protection or possibility.

The moment that would define everything that came after.

Adrian was already moving toward me, meeting me at the edge of the stage, hand extended. His expression was vulnerable in a way I’d never seen before. He was just as afraid of being hurt as I was.