KENDRA
The emerald-draped woman lingered long after she should have walked away, her laugh ringing in my ears like the shrill clink of broken glass. She touched Pascal’s arm again, her perfectly manicured nails grazing his sleeve like she had every right to.
And he didn’t move.
He didn’t recoil, didn’t step back, he only stood there, smiling that polite, unreadable smile that made people think they were special.
I hated it.
I hated the way she leaned in so close, like they shared some secret. I hated the way Pascal looked utterly unbothered, as though her attention cost him nothing. And most of all, I hated the heat curling in my chest, the jealousy that made my pulse pound in my throat.
I tipped the champagne glass to my lips to disguise the sharpness in my expression. The bubbles f
