The ballroom was a glowing mess of chandeliers, clinking glass, and fake laughter. Aria hated it on sight.
She stood beside Xander, one arm looped through his, playing the perfect wife. Her black dress hugged her body like armor. Her smile? Painted on with precision.
Every eye in the room was on them.
She wanted to scream, just a little.
"Don't forget to look like you're happy," Xander murmured under his breath.
She leaned in, sweet and cold. "Don't forget to look like you didn't ruin my life."
He didn't respond. Just tightened his jaw. Good.
Then the temperature dropped by ten degrees.
Lena Vale walked in.
Red dress. Flawless skin. That look in her eyes like she still owned the room—and maybe part of Xander.
"Aria," Lena said, sauntering over like this was some kind of rom-com reunion scene. "You look... well. Alive."
Aria raised an eyebrow. "I get that a lot."
Lena's smile tightened. "Didn't expect to see you. You know how it is. Some ghosts prefer the grave."
Aria didn't blink. Didn't flinch.
"Yeah? And some ghosts come back with unfinished business."
Lena chuckled. "Still dramatic."
"And you're still boring," Aria said. "What a relief."
That shut her up—for about five seconds.
"I guess he needed someone to fill the silence after you disappeared."
Aria leaned in, real close.
"Tell me, Lena. Do you miss him? Or do you just miss how powerful it made you feel to have something that wasn't yours?"
Lena stiffened.
Xander looked like he wanted the earth to swallow them both.
Good.
Aria stepped back, flashing a smile. "Have a lovely evening."
She walked away. Her heels clicked. Her fingers trembled just slightly.
She didn't care.
That scene?
That was hers.