I ran into Harold again a month later at a high-profile business gala.
I was there as Gabriel's plus one, arm tucked through his, moving smoothly through the crowd of guests with a practiced, polite smile.
Then I spotted him in the corner.
Harold had lost a ton of weight. The sharp, cocky spark that had always lit up his face was completely gone, replaced by a thick, worn-down exhaustion that made him look years older.
His suit hung loose on him, almost swimming in his frame. He was clutching a glass of liquor, his gaze glued to me, unblinking and unyielding.
He clearly hadn't expected to see me looking so calm, so radiant, standing right at another man's side.
Gabriel noticed I'd gone rigid and leaned down to murmur, “Want to go somewhere else to avoid him?”
I shook my head, took a
