Adam saw us first.
He was near the bar with one hand around a champagne flute, half-turned toward a group of relatives.
The moment his eyes landed on me, his whole face changed.
He seemed happier than before, most likely because he thought I was there to see him and his bride.
Then he saw Adrian, and he went white like someone had kicked all the blood out of him in one blow.
At the same moment, the bride, who was chatting near Adam with other guests, turned.
She was beautiful in her umbrella gown. Her dark hair was pinned up, diamonds on her neck and ears. She saw me, frowned, then saw Adrian and physically stiffened.
That was when Adrian’s hand tightened around mine.
He leaned down, smiling for the watching guests, and whispered, “I promise you, I didn’t know this, but the bride, your ex’s new wife, was my fiancée.”
For one wild second, I forgot how to breathe.
I turned my head slightly. “What?”
“Keep smiling,” he murmured. “I’ll explain later.”
I should have let go of his arm and demanded answers. I should have walked out right then and left all of them to their nonsense.
