The reception tent glowed with warm light and expensive flowers. There were place cards and menus and perfectly folded napkins. Daniel and I were seated at the head table, close enough to the couple that I could hear Clare’s breathing when she leaned in to whisper to Ethan.
It was almost funny, the way a chart on paper could decide who mattered.Halfway through dinner, I excused myself and slipped out of the tent to get air. Beyond the party, the estate was quiet—dark lawn, distant trees, security lights glowing near the drive. I stood near a hedge and let my shoulders drop.
Daniel found me a moment later, as if he’d felt the change in my breathing.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I feel like I’m watching my life from the outside.”
He leaned against the hedge beside me. “That makes sense. It’s been… a lot.”
“A lot,” I echoed, almost laughing.
“Do you want to leave?” he asked gently. “We can make an excuse. We’ve already done the important part—showed up for you.”
I looked back toward the tent, toward the bright circle where Clare was supposed to be the center. “Not yet,” I said. “I want to stay. For her.”
Daniel nodded. “Then we stay.”