I felt her before I saw her.
That was the worst part.
The way the room shifted slightly. The way conversations dipped just a fraction. The way people looked… not directly, but enough for you to notice.
Like something—or someone—important had just arrived.
I glanced up from my glass.
And there she was.
Alessia.
Of course.
She didn’t walk into the room.
She owned it.
Every step was slow, deliberate, confident. Her dress clung to her like it had been designed for her and only her, dark and elegant, her hair falling perfectly over one shoulder. She didn’t need to look around to know people were watching.
She already knew.
My stomach tightened slightly.
I hated that I noticed.
I hated that I compared.
And I really hated that she fit here so easily… while I still felt like I was p
