Calling it, in a nice-sounding way, "letting me appreciate them."
But from the moment of the divorce, I had already ended the self-abuse—and drawn a clear line with him.
My expression didn't waver. "You misunderstood. I'm getting married."
"Married?"
Andrew looked like he'd just heard the funniest joke of his life.
"You? Do you dare let this guy see what you look like without makeup?"
He turned to Luke, voice dripping with mockery.
"Fair warning, buddy—you might want to see Elena's real face before you commit to anything. Trust me, once that makeup comes off, you'll think you're staring at a ghost."
"I'm her ex-husband. I stared at that face for five years straight. I know exactly what's under there. Consider yourself warned."
Luke stood off to the side, a half-smile playing on his lips as he glanced at me.
"Ah, Mr. James. What a coincidence."
He pulled out a wedding invitation and extended it toward Andrew.
"I was planning to have this delivered to your place, but since we ran into you—saves me a trip."
"Elena and I are getting married next month. You're welcome to attend."
Andrew's face went white.
He stared at the invitation for a long moment, then let out a cold laugh.