Another message?
1301 Words
~Clara~
I opened my eyes and drew in a slow breath, hoping it would steady the storm inside me.
It didn't.
No matter how many times I tried to convince myself that everything would return to normal, my heart stubbornly refused to listen. It was as though it had begun speaking a language I no longer understood.
“Clara."
Alexei's voice was gentle, almost hesitant.
I turned toward him.
He smiled, though I noticed the concern hadn't left his eyes.
"I think everyone's waiting for us."
Only then did I realize several guests were looking in our direction. Some smiled warmly, while others lifted their champagne glasses as though silently encouraging us to rejoin the celebration.
I straightened my shoulders.
For tonight, I had to be Clara Beaumont.
The successful businesswoman.
The perfect daughter.
The newly engaged fiancée.
Not the woman whose heart had somehow wandered toward the last person it ever should have.
Alexei held out his hand.
"Shall we?"
For the briefest moment, I stared at it.
That hand had held mine through countless difficult moments over the years.
It had comforted me after exhausting business meetings.
It had wiped away my tears when my grandmother died.
It had steadied me whenever I doubted myself.
It had never once let me go.
Slowly, I slipped my hand into his.
His fingers wrapped around mine with familiar warmth.
I wished my heart would respond the way it always had before.
Instead...
Nothing.
A sharp pang of guilt spread through my chest.
He deserved someone whose heart beat a little faster every time he smiled.
Someone who looked at him the way she used to.
Someone who wasn't standing beside him wondering why another woman's face kept finding its way into her thoughts.
Alexei squeezed my hand gently before leading me back toward the centre of the ballroom.
The applause started almost immediately.
Someone raised a toast.
Another guest shouted congratulations.
Laughter filled the room.
The band shifted into a slower melody as waiters moved effortlessly between elegantly dressed guests.
I smiled.
I laughed.
I thanked everyone who came to congratulate us.
Every word that left my mouth sounded convincing.
Inside...
I was crumbling.
An elderly woman embraced me tightly.
"I've watched you grow into such a remarkable young woman," she said warmly.
"Your mother would be so proud."
Emotion tightened my throat.
"Thank you."
She patted my cheek affectionately before walking away.
Another couple approached.
Then another.
Minutes blended together until I completely lost track of time.
I couldn't remember a single conversation I'd just had.
My body was present.
My mind wasn't.
Every now and then, my eyes drifted toward the entrance of the hotel.
Ridiculous.
Absolutely ridiculous.
What exactly was I expecting?
That Hyacinth would suddenly walk back inside?
That she would smile apologetically before pretending nothing had happened?
Even if she did...
What would I do?
Walk over and kiss her in front of everyone?
The absurdity of the thought almost made me laugh.
Almost.
Instead, I lowered my eyes, ashamed of myself.
"Miss Beaumont?"
One of the waiters stood beside me carrying a silver tray.
"Would you like another glass?"
I glanced at the untouched champagne in my hand.
I hadn't taken a single sip.
"I think I will."
He exchanged the glass for a fresh one before disappearing into the crowd.
I raised it toward my lips.
The champagne tasted unusually bitter.
Or perhaps...
Everything did tonight.
"You've finally decided to drink."
I looked sideways.
My father.
Again.
He wasn't smiling.
"I thought I'd give it a try."
"Hm."
That was all he said.
Just one quiet sound.
Yet somehow it carried more weight than an entire speech.
He looked toward the dance floor where Alexei was laughing with a group of business partners.
Then he returned his attention to me.
"You're distracted."
It wasn't a question.
It was a statement.
I forced a small smile.
"I've had a long day."
"So has everyone else."
I remained silent.
He studied me carefully.
"When you were ten years old, you lied about breaking your mother's favourite vase."
My stomach tightened immediately.
"I remember."
"You smiled exactly like you're smiling now."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"You've never been very good at hiding your feelings, Clara."
His words settled heavily between us.
For a frightening moment, I thought he knew everything.
Every thought.
Every feeling.
Every stolen kiss.
"I..." My voice caught.
"I really am tired."
He watched me for another long second before giving a slow nod.
"If that's true, then get some rest after the guests leave."
"And if it isn't?"
The question escaped before I could stop it.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Then I hope whatever is troubling you is worth the price you'll eventually pay."
My breath caught.
Before I could respond, he gently squeezed my shoulder and walked away.
I stood perfectly still.
His words echoed through my mind.
Worth the price.
Would it be?
I didn't even know what "it" was anymore.
All I knew was that one unexpected kiss had managed to shake foundations I'd spent years building.
A kiss.
Just one kiss.
How could something so brief leave such lasting damage?
No.
Damage wasn't the right word.
Because if I were completely honest...
There had been something beautiful about it.
Dangerously beautiful.
The way Hyacinth had looked at me afterward.
The way she'd frozen, just as shocked as I was.
The way she'd fled before I could understand what I'd done.
Or...
What I'd almost done.
I rubbed my forehead.
This had to stop.
Starting tomorrow, everything would return to normal.
I would be her employer.
She would be my assistant.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
We would keep our distance.
We had to.
It was the only sensible solution.
The only one.
"Clara!"
A friend waved excitedly from across the ballroom.
"They're getting ready for photographs."
I blinked.
"Coming."
I carefully slipped the phone into my clutch before walking toward the photographer.
The next twenty minutes passed in a blur of smiling cameras, family portraits, laughter, and congratulations.
Flash after flash illuminated the ballroom.
Each photograph captured what looked like the perfect engagement.
I wondered whether anyone looking at those pictures years from now would notice how forced my smile truly was.
Probably not.
The best lies were often hidden behind the brightest smiles.
By the time the photographs ended, I felt emotionally exhausted.
I quietly excused myself and stepped onto one of the hotel's private balconies overlooking the city.
The cool night breeze brushed against my skin.
For the first time all evening...
Silence.
I welcomed it.
The city lights stretched endlessly before me, tiny golden stars scattered across the darkness.
Usually, this view calmed me.
Tonight...
Nothing could.
I leaned against the railing and closed my eyes.
"What is happening to me?"
The words barely escaped as a whisper.
I had no answer.
Perhaps there wasn't one.
Perhaps some questions weren't meant to be answered.
My phone vibrated.
I jumped.
My heart immediately began pounding against my ribs.
I stared at my clutch.
The vibration came again.
My breathing became uneven.
It couldn't be...
Could it?
Only one person had occupied my thoughts every waking moment since afternoon.
Only one person had every reason to contact me after everything that had happened.
Hyacinth.
My fingers trembled as I reached into my clutch.
For a second, I couldn't bring myself to touch the phone.
What if it was her?
What if she regretted everything?
What if she wanted to resign?
...Or worse.
What if she wanted to pretend none of it had ever happened?
I closed my eyes briefly before taking one shaky breath.
Slowly...
Very slowly...
I pulled the phone from my bag.
The screen lit up.
My heart stopped.
New Message.
- Writer
