Eleanor's POV
Many hours later, I stood frozen at the entrance of the grand reception hall. A shimmering banner proclaimed the "Joining of the Blake and Moore Families," the names feeling like a personal taunt.
Music and the clink of glasses floated out, a symphony of everything I'd spent years trying to escape.
Mira got me a simple but elegant navy dress, a silent armor against the extravagance I knew awaited inside.
"Whoa," Roxy said beside me, her eyes scanning the crowd visible through the open doors. "This place reeks of fake people. I can smell the plastic surgery and the desperation from here."
Mira, looking uncharacteristically severe in a sharp black cocktail dress, squeezed my arm. "Ellie, talk to me. Why are we here? Do you really need to see him marry her? To confirm he's moved on?" She paused. "He's been showing you that even before the day you two broke up."
Ouch. The direct hit landed squarely in my chest, stealing my breath.
