“What are you doing here?”
“Enjoying the party that doesn’t exist.”
His eyes flicked toward Grant.
Then back to me.
“Can we talk somewhere private?”
“No.”
His voice dropped.
“Brooke, please.”
“I’m having a wonderful time.”
“Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“This isn’t the place.”
I laughed quietly.
“Interesting. You seemed to think it was the perfect place to bring someone else as your wife.”
His face changed.
There it was.
Fear.
Not guilt.
Not shame.
Fear.
“Who told you that?”
“The man whose name is on the invitation.”
Evan looked at Grant.
“Sir, this is a misunderstanding.”
Grant’s expression was unreadable.
“I’m looking forward to understanding it.”
Evan stepped closer to me.
“Go home. I’ll explain everything later.”
“No.”
“Brooke—”
“No.”
For years, I had hated confrontation.
Evan knew it.
He was counting on the woman who apologized when waiters brought the wrong order.
The woman who avoided arguments in front of Sophie.
The woman who repeatedly told herself there must be another explanation.
That woman had driven to the lake.
She hadn’t walked through the gate with me.
I looked across the lawn.
“Where is she?”
Evan said nothing.
“The woman you introduced as your wife.”
His lips parted.
Nothing came out.
Then Grant spoke.
