I stood frozen in the doorway. “Did you really think you were invited?” she said, not smiling. My husband looked down at his watch, not at me. The room went dead silent. My daughter’s hand slipped into mine. Then she stepped forward, reaching into her pocket…

I crouched beside her, keeping my body between her and the room. “You’re okay,” I told her, though my stomach knotted as the guard drew closer.

Marissa stepped in, close enough that her perfume stung. “You should go,” she said quietly, only for me. “Before this gets embarrassing.”

“It already is,” I whispered back, eyes locked on Ethan. “For him.”

Ethan opened his mouth, then shut it again. He still wouldn’t meet my eyes. The room went so quiet I could hear the jazz trio pause on a held note.

Marissa’s expression shifted—decisive. She reached into her pocket, and the edge of a small velvet box slid into her hand.

Marissa lifted the velvet box like she was presenting a donation check. She opened it and a diamond ring caught the chandelier light.

“Well,” she said, voice carrying now, “since we’re doing this publicly—Ethan, it’s time we stop pretending.” She held the ring out. “Marry me.”

A few people gasped. Someone laughed once, nervously. Ethan stared at the ring, then at me, then at Sophie, and the color drained from his face.