ELOISE
The heavy glass doors of the terrace closed behind me, instantly cutting off the thrumming bass of the orchestra and the low, suffocating hum of high-society chatter.
The cool night air hit my bare shoulders, sending a sharp shiver down my spine. I walked over to the stone balustrade, resting my hands on the freezing granite, and stared out at the sprawling, moonlit gardens of the estate. I took a long, shaky breath, trying to calm the violent storm raging in my chest.
I had done it. I had performed my piece, gotten my applause, and held my head high. But seeing him out there—seeing Mike with another girl wrapped around his arm—had opened every single wound I had been trying so desperately to heal.
Click.
The soft sound of the terrace door opening behind me made me freeze.
