Tutoring The Billionaire Triplets (A Reverse-Age Gap Romance)

MICHELLE “Are you sure you want to do this, Mitch?” Tasha had asked me that three times before I left my apartment. Each time, I'd laughed. “It's a wedding, not a battlefield.” But standing inside the reception hall now, watching my ex-husband smile at the woman he'd cheated on me with, I wasn't so sure anymore. Daniel stood beside Susan, talking to guests as though they hadn't spent the last few years turning my life into something I barely recognized. He looked comfortable, his smile easy and familiar, while she stood beside him in a beautiful white dress, looking every bit like a woman who had finally gotten everything she'd ever wanted. They looked happy. And that was the part I hadn't prepared myself for. Because once upon a time, Daniel and I had stood in a room like this, surrounded by people who smiled at us and wished us a lifetime of happiness. I'd worn a white dress, he'd held my hand, and I'd believed with every part of me that we were going to grow old together. Eight years of marriage. Eight years of believing that I knew the man I'd married. And then, in the space of a few months, everything I'd built with him had fallen apart because he'd decided that a twenty-two-year-old woman was worth throwing it all away for. I swallow the lump in my throat. I don't know what prompted me to come to my ex-husband's wedding two years after our divorce. No, that's a lie. I know exactly why I'm here. It's that little voice in my head that keeps insisting I'm fully healed now, as though healing is something I can simply declare and have it become true. The same voice that convinced me to accept the invitation when it arrived, telling me that I had nothing left to fear, and certainly nothing left to feel for a man who had already made it clear how little our marriage meant to him. It told me to come here, pick up whatever remained of my dignity, and prove to myself that seeing Daniel marry Susan wouldn't affect me anymore. That I'd moved on. That I was fine. That I could stand in the same room as the two people who had hurt me and feel absolutely nothing. God, that voice is stupid. I inhale a shaky breath, but it does little to steady me. There's something particularly cruel about standing in the same room as the person who broke your heart and realizing that, despite everything you've done to put yourself back together, there are still pieces of you that haven't healed. I glance down at myself. I'm wearing a royal blue Oh Polly dress with silver heels and a matching silver clutch. I'd spent far too much money on the dress, even more time getting ready, and nearly an hour trying to convince myself that I looked like a woman who had her life together. And I do look good. At least, I think I do. But suddenly, all I want to do is go home, take off these heels, wash my face, and pretend I never came here. Surely, it won't hurt to slip out now, right? I lift my head. And at that exact moment, my eyes meet Susan's across the room. She's standing beside Daniel, her fingers resting lightly on his arm, and when she recognizes me, her lips spread into a wide, perfectly practiced smile. My heart gives a painful little twist. I scowl at her before I can stop myself but the smile doesn't falter. Tears gather in my eyes, and I quickly look down, digging my fingers into the sides of my clutch as I turn away. “I-I need to use the restroom,” I whisper to myself. I need to splash some water on my face, and get the hell out of here before I embarrass myself. I start toward the restroom, keeping my gaze fixed on the floor. One step, then another with my heart feeling heavier with every movement, and I'm so busy trying to keep the tears from falling that I barely notice where I'm going. Until I run straight into something hard. A startled gasp escapes me as I stumble backward. And then, before I can even figure out what has happened, something cold splashes across my chest. I freeze as the sharp, unmistakable smell of champagne fills my nose. For a moment, my brain simply stops working. I stand there with both arms slightly outstretched, staring at the liquid dripping down the front of my dress. My dress. The expensive dress I'd spent an unreasonable amount of money on. The dress I'd carefully chosen because I wanted to look like a woman who had moved on with her life. Oh, you've got to be f*****g kidding me. Slowly, I lift my head. The man standing in front of me is tall. And I mean tall. I'm five foot nine, so I'm not exactly unfamiliar with looking people in the eye, but this man still manages to tower over me. He's dressed in a well-tailored suit, a phone pressed against his ear, and he looks entirely too composed for someone who has just drenched a complete stranger in champagne. My mouth opens but nothing comes out. I close it then open it again. Still nothing. The tears that had been threatening to fall moments ago are now mixed with something else. Anger. Frustration. And a deep, burning desire to scream. The man glances down at the champagne soaking into my dress, and his expression shifts. He quickly speaks into his phone. “I'll call you back.” He ends the call and lowers it. “I'm sorry,” he says. I stare at him, then at my dress, then back at him. “Do you just go around pouring drinks on unsuspecting women, or am I getting some kind of special treatment?” He blinks. “You bumped into—” He pauses, his gaze suddenly flicking past my shoulder. “...me first.” I frown. Before I can respond, curiosity gets the better of me, and I turn to follow his gaze. And there she is. Susan. Walking toward us with that same wide, plastic smile plastered across her face. Oh, for the love of God. My heart starts pounding again, and I feel the last bit of composure I've managed to scrape together slipping through my fingers. “Michelle!” Her voice rings out before she even reaches us. I close my eyes for half a second. Of course. Of course she has to come over here. Slowly, I turn to face her, with the champagne-soaker stranger standing just behind me. “Hi, Susan. Long time no see.” “Yes, yes!” She laughs, her eyes flicking over me before returning to my face. “I was so surprised when I saw someone who looked like you from across the room. I honestly didn't think you'd come.” She tilts her head. “Especially since I told Dan to send you the invitation.” Dan. The familiar name makes something twist unpleasantly in my chest. I force my lips into a smile. “Of course I would come. How could I possibly miss watching you walk down the aisle so your status could finally upgrade from mistress to Mrs.?”