I went downstairs and when I sat at the dining table my food was already turning cold. I kept twisting my fork on the food,caring less of everyone else on the dining table.
I didn't register doing it until the third time, when I caught Lena's voice in my head, ‘You fidget when you're lying Isabelle’, and I made myself stop and pick up my wine glass instead.
Across the table, my mother was talking about the venue, she encountered Dorian, the flowers, centerpieces and something about ivory versus cream and why the difference mattered.
Dorian was busy listening, or at least, making a good try of it. His hand rested on the table near hers, close enough that when she gestured at him, brushed her fingers on his, and she smiled without breaking her sentence and I looked at my plate.
The prob
