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Celeste walks to the balustrade and leans over, swaying her ass to the beat of the music. Ryan goes to stand at her back, caging her between his arms with his palms planted on the rail. Unable to shake my unease, I look around, assessing the faces on the floor below before searching the bridge next to the DJ box.
Mistaking my motive, Colin says, “Don’t worry. The others will be here soon. You know how long it takes them to get ready.”
I give him a weak smile.
When the champagne arrives, the waitress uncorks the bottle and pours four glasses. I grab one and all but down it, needing the liquid courage. She tops up my glass before leaving.
“Thirsty?” Colin asks with a chuckle.
Ryan takes Celeste’s hand and drags her back to us, preventing me from having to explain. My brother sits, pulls his wife onto his lap, and hands her a glass. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he rests his free hand on her stomach and says something in her ear. A flush darkens her cheeks. I don’t often witness them in an environment outside of family. It’s good to see them so happy.
By the time the rest of our group arrive, I’m on my third glass of champagne. Ryan waves the waitress over and tells her to keep the bubbly coming. I drink another glass while Ryan makes a toast, remembering too late to alternate with water. As if reading my thoughts, Colin hands me a crystal goblet of sparkling water.
“Let’s dance.” Celeste balances her empty glass in one hand while snaking her arms around Ryan’s neck. She wiggles her ass on his lap. “I love this song.”
He takes her glass and puts it on the table. “We’re here to chaperone, remember?”
“Urgh.” I make a face. “Don’t let my friends hear that.” Although, friends isn’t the term I should use. We’re not that close. Classmates or acquaintances would be a more fitting description. “Take your wife to dance, Ryan.” My tone is teasing. “What kind of a husband are you?”
Ryan gives Celeste a panty-dropping smile and deposits her on her feet with a tap on her ass. The DJ hasn’t opened the dance floor, but a few people are already warming up, shaking their bodies to the beat.
I watch the dancers until someone shoves a blue, fizzy drink into my hands. I look up.
“A blueberry gin and tonic,” Veronica, the long-distance star athlete of our school, says with a wink. She clinks a glass with similar contents against mine.
The cocktail is sweet. I’m already buzzing from the champagne. Mixing isn’t a good idea, but I need the alcohol to calm my anxiety. This is my party after all, and I’m still chasing the fun that seems set on eluding me.
The DJ opens the dance floor with a popular song. Everyone except me, Veronica, and Colin are dancing.
“Let’s join the others,” I say on impulse.
For the next hour, I try to get into the mood on the overfull dance floor, but the fragmented bursts of laser lights and the blaring music hurt my eyes and ears. A headache starts to build in my temples. The alcohol doesn’t help. Neither does the paranoia that makes me see dark-haired and dangerous-looking men everywhere in the crowd.
The heat is insupportable. Or maybe it’s just me. Perspiration covers my skin.
I touch Colin’s arm to get his attention. “I’m going to the ladies.”
“I’ll come with you,” he says, raising his voice above the music.
I’m glad for the hand he wraps around mine to steady me.
“Hey.” He frowns when I almost lose my balance on the stairs. “Are you okay?”
I should be. I should be having the time of my life, but I’m not. I can pretend all I want to. The truth is that I’m hating this.
“I think you had a little too much to drink,” he says with a laugh, opening the door to the VIP ladies’ bathroom and holding it for me to enter. “I’ll wait here. Shout if you need me.”
“Thanks,” I say, meaning it like never before.
Thankfully, the VIP bathrooms are less busy than the normal ones. I enter the nearest open stall and empty my full bladder. When I flush the toilet, the gold ring on my thumb catches my attention. Like a shiny piece of fool’s gold, it mocks me, resembling everything that’s been eating me since the day Angelo put that ring on my finger.
Vexation rises in a slow-burning path up inside me. The anger eradicates my self-control and reason. The point I’m at my lowest is the point I snap.
Enough.
Angelo ruled my thoughts and my life for the past two years. I won’t allow him to take more than he already has. He won’t destroy this night too.
Wiggling the hated ring from my thumb, I toss it in the toilet. It hits the water with a plonk and lands with a clank on bottom of the bowl. I watch the jewel that glitters in the water with detached fascination as I push the button and flush it away.
