The banquet hall was warm—heated to perfection—but cold seeped into my bones anyway, settling deep where no warmth could reach.
Mason glanced at me once, then turned and walked toward a server.
The pain churning inside me nearly made me black out. I forced myself toward the balcony, each step a small war.
"Chloe Harding, how much longer are you going to cling to Mason? Have you no dignity? No shame?"
Rebecca's voice cut through the noise. I'd barely turned when she shoved me—hard.
"As long as you're alive, I'll never be Mrs. Blackwell."
My foot slipped. Instinct took over—I grabbed for her, and we both tumbled over the railing.
My hands caught the guardrail. I held on.
A scream tore through the night. Mason appeared moments later, a scarf clutched in his hand.
Rebecca twisted to look at me, a mocking smile curling her lips.
"Chloe. Who do you think he'll save first?"
I watched Mason stride toward her without a heartbeat's hesitation.
Good, I thought. The relief that washed through me was almost sweet. He doesn't love me anymore.
Rebecca turned wide, wounded eyes up at him. "Mason, please—save me and our baby."