The final blow was a photo of them doing a love shot, followed by another of them kissing passionately.
I slammed my phone shut, my blood boiling.
At that moment, a waiter passed by with a tray of wine. Without thinking, I grabbed a glass and downed it in one go.
Still furious, I gestured to the waiter before he left. “Wait. I’ll take the whole tray. And please bring me more.”
He hesitated at first and his shock was evident, but then he nodded. “Of course, Miss.”
I finished the first tray in minutes, the wine barely dulling the ache in my chest.
“I’ll be happy,” I muttered to myself, my voice growing louder with each word. “After I get married, I’ll forget Lewis.”
I thought I was only thinking about it, but the words spilled out, my voice carrying into the night.
Before I could yell further, a man appeared, quickly covering my mouth.
“Don’t shout. You’ll become the center of attention,” he said, his tone firm.
I pushed his hand away, glaring at him. “It’s my life. You have no right to interfere.”
“Well,” he replied, his voice calm but teasing, “your life is my life too.”
I scoffed. “What nonsense are you talking about?”