Page 60 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

Though maybe Naija didn’t know anything about that.

Which would have been impressive, considering anyone with two functioning eyes could see exactly how Cassandra felt about Cassian.

My attention snapped back to Camilla, who was now explaining, in excruciating detail, how last month’s floral arrangements had been far too ordinary for the guest list.

She was interrupted by a new, familiar voice.

“What are you doing here?”

The man of the hour had arrived.

I looked over to find Cassian standing there, a coffee cup in one hand and a takeout bag in the other.

Camilla was on her feet before I could blink. “Cassian!” Surprise crossed her face, followed by something sharper that she tried to hide. Alarm. “What are you doing here?”

His gaze moved from her to me, his expression giving nothing away. “That’s what I’d like to know.”

Camilla faltered. Her fingers immediately went to her earring, twisting it between them. Her gaze darted toward me. “I came to see my daughter-in-law, of course.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

She gave an exaggerated huff, pressing a hand to her chest in mock offense. “Because I missed her, you silly boy.” She reached over and gave his arm a playful smack, but instead of laughing, Cassian stiffened beneath her touch. “Honestly, you and that emotionally illiterate personality of yours. I still don’t know how Alessia manages to put up with you.”

Cassian flinched.

It was tiny. A brief tightening around his eyes, a faint recoil beneath her touch before his face locked itself back into place.

My eyes tracked between them, reading the silent story in their posture. Camilla was a performance of warmth, all exaggerated gestures and bright tones. Cassian was a statue, rigid and unmoving, absorbing her blows without response.

Even standing side by side, they looked nothing alike.

I pushed myself to my feet, cutting straight through her performance. “You know, Camilla, since you’re so talented and have such a superior eye for detail, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble planning your own tea parties from now on. Consider my services officially retired, mother-in-law.”

Her eyes darted toward Cassian, panic flashing across her face before she smoothed it over with a tinkling laugh. “Alessia, darling, of course I didn’t mean—”

“Wait.” Cassian’s brow drew together. “What tea party?”

Camilla turned that radiant smile on him, sweetness layered so thickly over her words I could practically taste it. “My monthly tea parties, silly! I only came to ask Alessia for a few little suggestions, that’s all.” She gave another delicate laugh, but the strain beneath it was impossible to miss. “I didn’t know offering suggestions was called ‘planning’ these days. My, how times have changed.”

I tilted my head, giving her my most innocent look. “Huh.”

Then I palmed my forehead in an exaggerated show of realization. “Silly me. I must have misunderstood. When you demanded the theme, criticized the flowers, and declared last month’s party merely ‘decent’ and the one before it a disaster…” I let out a small, rueful laugh. “I mistakenly thought you were asking me to plan them.”

I tapped my temple, my smile turning sweet. “But you’re right. You only asked for suggestions. My mistake for thinking all those demands, revisions, and detailed criticisms were directed at my work rather than your own.”

Her smile vanished. She glared at me, her eyes spitting out every insult her lips didn’t dare utter.

Cassian’s voice cut through the silence, disbelief sharpening every word. “You’ve been having Alessia plan your parties?”

She sputtered, “No, Cassian. It’s not like that—” She shook her head, scrambling for an explanation. “Alessia is just—”

“Alessia is what?” Cassian cut in, his voice turning cold enough to make the room tense.

Camilla recoiled, genuinely startled. She clearly wasn’t used to this side of him.

I clapped my hands together once.

The sharp crack tore through the tension, and every head turned toward me.