Elaine's POV.
Zane disappears sometime after most of the formalities end.
He just slips away, jacket in hand, murmuring something to some man equally as tall as him. They head toward the balcony doors together, and before I can even think about whether I care, they're gone.
I tell myself I don't.
I stay where I am, near the bar, fingers curled around the stem of my glass. It's something light, something citrusy without apple anywhere near it again. The women around me are already deep into conversation, a loose circle of wives who've known each other long enough to speak freely.
They're warm, curious and assessing.
"So....." one of them says, smiling politely at me and leaning in. "How are you holding up?"
I shrug lightly. "Well I'm surviving."
That earns a few laughs.
Another woman leans closer. "He's really intense, your husband."
That's one word for it.
"I've noticed," I say.
