The older man laughed loudly. "Come talk to me before some investor traps me for the rest of the evening."
Bramwell glanced toward me immediately instead of following him.
"Go," I said quietly.
His eyes came back to me immediately. "I will stay."
I shook my head once. "It’s fine."
A pause. He studied me, making sure.
"I’m okay," I added.
Only then did he give a small nod and finally turn away, "Just few minutes then, April."
"Okay, Bramwell," I responded.
The words left naturally enough that I barely thought about them. But Ellis did. I saw the exact moment he heard me. His expression changed instantly, something close to shock flickering across his face before he masked it again.
Bramwell hesitated another second before finally allowing himself to be dragged into conversation across the room. The moment he disappeared into the crowd, the pressure in my chest returned full force.
Too many people. Too much noise. Too many eyes. And Ellis still staring.
I lasted another minute before slipping away from the ballroom toward the hallway leading to the restrooms. The noise softened gradually the farther I walked, until the music and overlapping conversations became muted behind the walls instead of something physically pressing against my skin. The corridor wasdimmer than the ballroom, lined with gold light fixtures and dark marble that reflected blurred shadows across the floor, and the quiet alone made my breathing loosen slightly.
I stopped near the restroom entrance, pretending to study one of the framed photographs mounted beside the door while I tried to steady myself. My hands still felt tense from holding myself together inside that room, and I could still feel Ellis's gaze lingering on me even from across the ballroom.
A few seconds later, footsteps approached behind me. I didn't need to turn around to know it was him.
"You're talking again." He said.
I looked down briefly at the marble floor beneath us.
"Just not to me," he added after a moment.
When I finally looked back at him, he was already watching me with an expression I couldn't fully untangle.
"You look different," he said quietly. I looked at him, confused. A faint smile touched his mouth, tired and fleeting.
"You were always beautiful, April. That's not what I mean." His eyes moved over my face carefully. "You look lighter now. Less... exhausted."
Ellis glanced away for a second before speaking again, this time slower. "I've been seeing a therapist." A humorless laugh escaped him softly. "Apparently I have more issues than I originally thought."
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I stayed quiet. His gaze drifted past my shoulder toward the ballroom behind us before returning to me again.
"She told me about selective mutism," he continued more quietly. "What panic does to speech. What it feels like when your body decides silence is safer than trying to force words out." He swallowed once before looking at me again. "So when I heard you talking to him tonight, even a little..."
He stopped there, jaw tightening briefly as frustration flickered across his face, though this time it seemed directed entirely at himself. Ellis exhaled slowly before asking, more carefully this time, "Are you with him?"
The silence seemed to affect him more than any response could have. Something sharp flickered briefly across his expression before he looked away, jaw flexing.
"So that's it?" he asked quietly. "You were able to let go of everything we had that easily?"
The bitterness in his voice startled me enough that my eyes lifted fully to his face, and he seemed to realize instantly how harsh he sounded because he dragged a hand over his face with a low breath.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly, shaking his head. "God, I'm sorry, April. I know I told you that you deserved someone who helped you heal. I meant that. I still mean it." His voice weakened slightly at the edges as he looked back at me. "But seeing you with him tonight..." He let out another quiet breath, almost unsteady. "My God, it hurts."
He sounded sincere, but late. Painfully late. Before I could think of what to do, movement at the end of the hallway pulled both our attention toward the ballroom entrance. Bramwell had stepped out of the crowd, clearly searching for me. The moment he spotted us standing near the restroom corridor together, he slowed slightly. His expression was calm and controlled.
