Page 104 of Love and Other Champagne Problems

“That’s why you felt like youneededto get to know me. Because Aaron told you to.”

“No—”

“That’s why he knew everything about me,” I said in a flat voice. “Because you told him. Everything I told you in confidence, you told to Aaron.”

“Not—not everything.”

“He knew about my relationship with my parents, knew that I used to want to go to fashion school. He even knew I took my mashed potatoes without garlic butter, Sumner. Whatdidn’tyou tell him?”

A pained expression crossed Sumner’s face, but for the first time ever, I was hesitant to believe it. All this time, I thought he’d been an open book, when in reality, he’d been written in adifferent language. I thought of all the times in the past few weeks that I ignored what was right in front of me. Misunderstood.

“If I was Aaron’s spy, I wouldn’t have fallen for you,” Sumner insisted, taking a hesitant step closer. “And I did. You know I did. I?—”

“Stop,stop.” I held up a hand and was grateful he actually listened. Sumner fell silent, still.

I was so tired.So tired. The exhaustion ran deep into my bones. If I closed my eyes, it felt as if I’d instantly fall asleep. I was once more back at all the fundraisers and galas and parties, wishing I could be anywhere else in the world buthere. The Alderton-Du Ponte Country Club felt cursed, almost laughably so. It was shallow and airless and draining.

Aaron had abandoned pleading his case in favor of appeasing his own parents, which, I knew, was him giving up in a way. It didn’t matter in the end, did it? I’d already told the Astors I would not be marrying Aaron. Everything was unraveling like a spool of thread, faster than I could latch onto any of it.

I closed my eyes, wanting nothing more than to sleep. “I have had quite possibly the worst day of my life today. I’m literallythis closeto losing my mind. If you want me to hear you out… you have to wait.”

Sumner drew in a shaky breath. “Promise,” he whispered, and it wasn’t just my voice that shook. “Promise you’ll hear me out.”

His eyes were red as I studied them. Years and years of being trapped in a life with fake expressions and false smiles always had me looking closely, searching for the truth. In Sumner’s eyes, I saw it now. The earnest. Thedesperation. It reminded me of the night he knelt before me in my bedroom, cleaning the cut on my leg, his worry blooming in his eyes like a flower. It was real.

I closed my eyes once more, not wanting to see it. “I promise.”

Whether or not that was a lie, in that moment, I didn’t know. I only knew that I couldn’t do any of this right now.

Instead of walking away from the ballroom, I returned to it, only to find my parents and the Astors absent from our table. My mother must’ve coerced them away from the prying eyes. Sumner, for what felt like the first time, did not trail after me, and the absence of him darkened everything around me. He was not my shadow, I realized. He was the light.

I stopped at the entrance of the ballroom, staring at it all for what would probably be the final time, taking in its grandeur and glory. The chandelier, the glass ceiling, the large windows. It screamed money, influence, power. It was a place Nancy had founded, but it lacked all traces of her now. I ventured past the tables and the wedding attendants, toward the open bar, ready to close my time here with one final drink. “A glass of champagne, please,” I said to the bartender, grabbing the hem of my vest and tugging it down, away from my chest, trying to lessen the pressure of it against my ribs.

I had no idea what would happen after tonight. It was my final night to sleep in my bed, to pack my things, because surely my parents would throw me out in the morning. I was too tired to speculate.

As I waited for the pour, my ears picked up on words I wished they hadn’t. “I wonder if she planned it,”someone whispered in a conspiratorial tone. I looked around, but I couldn’t tell which moving mouth spoke. “When you’re that old, can youplanyour death?”

Someone else gasped. “What, like an assisted suicide?”

“Could’ve happened.” There was a pause, and though the whisper dropped lower, I could still hear it. “That girl was with her the day she passed. Maybe she gave Nancy something to help her go, if you know what I mean.”

My world darkened at the edges of my vision, rage simmering through the numbness that’d been clinging to me all day. As they continued to run their mouths, I imagined turning around and throwing my glass at whatever table the gossips sat at. I imagined marching over and grabbing a fistful of whosever hair and yanking it backward. I pictured it all in my head, relishing in the imaginary screams. My body vibrated from the barely restrained desire to act the fantasy out.

But I couldn’t find the source of the voice. It was only the words, ones that felt like they were coming from inside my head. It felt like, in that moment, that I could’ve screamed at the top of my lungs and no one would’ve noticed. That they’d assume it was part of the music, if they even heard it at all. How could my life be falling apart and everyone else’s be perfectly fine? How could not a single person blink twice on a day like today?

“Your champagne,” the bartender said, setting the small flute on the bar. They immediately turned to the next customer, as if I had never existed.

“It’s been hanging over our heads formonths,” a new voice added to the gossip. “God forgive me, but thank goodness it’s finally over with.”

“All those trips to and from her house. With nothing to do! Oh, I thoughtIwas going to die at times. Of boredom!”

Everyone gave a tittering laugh.

I closed my eyes to shut out the voices, the sounds, but they were everywhere. The words swirled around in my head, a choking fog. The few bits of food I’d choked down twisted in my stomach, as if I was on the verge of throwing it all back up.

“Margot?”

I closed my eyes, as if the action alone could shut out the voice and the impending person accompanying. I had no patience left to stretch; I was a wet towel wrung dry.

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