The moment pressed down on me, suffocating. Of all the times to learn that Ambrose was getting married, it had to be now. My chest tightened painfully, and I could feel the sting of tears threatening to well up, but I refused to let them fall. This crushing disappointment was too familiar; it echoed the time Fleur had casually mentioned that Ambrose had gotten a girlfriend and moved out. But this time, it was worse. He was getting married.
A bitter lump lodged in my throat, making it difficult to breathe. My heart raced as if trying to outrun the painful reality, and I hurried toward the stairway, hoping that some water might wash down the awful taste of betrayal and ease the unease tightening around my chest. I couldn’t afford to cry now not here, not with so many eyes on me. I had a job
