The way he looked at me when he said "I love you" for the first time.
The way he looked at me when he said "we're done."
I blink back tears and focus on Amelia and Declan, who are kissing now, officially married, and the small crowd in the courthouse is cheering.
Mom is crying into Dad's shoulder. Dad is crying into his handkerchief. Margot is recording everything on her phone.
And I'm standing there, watching my sister start her life with someone who loves her, and wondering if I just gave up on mine.
27
RING SHOPPING AND REGRET
VICTOR
Eight days after the gala, I'm standing in a jewelry store in the Diamond District watching Roman Ellis pick up custom wedding rings while trying not to think about the fact that I'm supposed to be at a wedding right now.
The invitation to Amelia Beaumont’s wedding seemed a no-brainer at the time.
With the arrangement that Harper and I had set up, attending events together was always priority number one, and with her mother’s blessing, it was yet another opportunity prove that I could play the part of the appropriate husband.
Mission unaccomplished, apparently.
Today, the December has turned Manhattan into a frozen hellscape—twenty degrees with wind that could chafe a penguin’s ass, a biting cold that seeps into your bones and stays there.
Inside the jewelry store, it's warm and bright and filled with symbols of love and commitment that make me want to set something on fire.
Within minutes of arriving, I know that this was a mistake.
Coming with Roman to pick up his rings. Agreeing to be his Best Man. Pretending I'm fine when I'm very clearly not fine.
"Mr. Ellis," the jeweler—a small man with thick glasses and careful hands—sets two small boxes on the velvet display mat. "Your rings are ready."
Roman opens the first box, and even I have to admit the rings are beautiful, simple platinum bands with some kind of engraving inside that I can't see from here.
"Perfect," Roman says, his voice doing something I've never heard before—going soft, vulnerable.
The jeweler smiles. "The inscription came out beautifully. 'Two souls, one journey.' Very romantic."
"It's from a poem Calli loves."
"Your fiancée has excellent taste."
"She does. Which is why she's marrying me despite my many flaws."
The jeweler laughs. "Love is about accepting flaws, yes? The Japanese have a concept—kintsugi. The art of repairing broken pottery with gold. The idea is that the breakage and repair become part of the object's history, making it more beautiful."
"That's very poetic," Roman says.
"It's very true. We are all broken in some way. Love is finding someone who sees the cracks and chooses to fill them with gold instead of walking away."
The words wash over me like an acid bath—stinging wherever they touch me. They settle inside my chest, burning.
"Victor?" Roman's voice cuts through my spiral. "You okay?"
"Fine."
"You look like you're about to throw up."
