Page 183 of Rush

The pit in my stomach deepens.

I’m so terrified to let him back in—to answer that call and be left with more questions than answers.

“You okay?” Riley asks as we arrive out the front of the Montgomery home.

I nod, but it’s stiff. Tight. I’m trying to hold myself together with grace, a forced smile. Just survive the day.

They greet us warmly enough—Philippa and Andrew look blissed-out and tanned from their honeymoon.

Carole is polite, like always.

My father doesn’t say a word. Just nods, jaw tight. I knew it. He’s not happy. Whatever polite pretense his congratulatory phone call carried—it’s already gone.

The only good thing about today is the food.

Carole tops off Mortimer’s glass, the wine bottle barely making a sound against the crystal. The dining room glows with candlelight and centerpieces that look straight out of a luxury florist’s showroom.

Philippa talks about the spa on Harbor Island for ten minutes straight, one hand resting on Andrew’s arm affectionately.

Riley hides her face behind a napkin. I can feel her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Anyway,” Philippa says, voice dreamy, “we didn’t really leave the resort much, but honestly, it was exactly what we needed. I haven’t felt that relaxed in years.”

“You look it,” Mortimer says, lifting his glass toward her. “Marriage suits you, my dearest.”

Philippa glows. Andrew smiles like he’s just been knighted.

Then my father’s eyes shift to me. He raises his glass again. “And you, Elena. Your nominations. It’s good to see you focusing on something important—somethingmeaningful.”

My stomach sinks at his tone. He’s displeased.

I raise my brows, catch the curve of his mouth. Just enough of a smirk to set me off. Still, everyone lifts their drinks. Carole claps delicately, like we’re at a garden party.

I roll my eyes and take a sip.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, voice too even.

“Well, since things ended with you and Alex…It’s nice to finally see you focused on what matters to you.” His words are casual, buttering a roll like we’re discussing traffic. “It is over isn’t it?”

I don’t know what comes over me, but the look on his face shatters what little self-control I have left.

Rather than ask me civilly or in private, he choosesnow, of all moments, to put me in my place.

I set my glass down. “Yeah, he fucked me and then dumped me—if youmustknow.”

Riley gasps, hand flying over mine. “Oh my God, babe.”

Carole actually clutches her pearls.

Andrew looks stunned, chewing slower like he doesn’t want to miss a word.

Philippa just shakes her head, shoulders slumping in quiet, exhausted defeat.

“Don’t be vulgar,” Mortimer says, not even blinking. “Though considering the headlines lately—and those half-naked social media posts—I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

I nod slowly, heat creeping up my neck as I take a longer sip.

“You are the company you keep.”