pte

ures

white lace gown clinging to her like a lie. Her fingers trembled as she read the warning, which was as icy as the pins

lengths and cathedral veils. But her mind raced. There was another player in the game. observing her. Edward being watched. Had Nico sent the mess

wheels. Luna slid in beside Edward, who glanced at her,

ubbed his brow in silence. Warm and firm, his hand reached

a's skin

silenced when she passed. In addition, Nico, who was normally cool and confident, was sweating. He had sa

unravel at this point. If someone was watching both of them, then the rules had cha

power that didn't care about Edward's velvet empire or her lace veil? Luna realized for the first time that she

ew civic library, and even the renovation of the historic town hall in Hollow Creek were among his accomplishments. Ethan's heart was much less orderly for a man who was so obsessed with lines, angles, and symmetry. He met Camille at an art gala downtown-a soft-spoken woman with almond eyes and a past she rarely disclosed. She wore elegance like a second

amille's true identity, she would gently switch the topic of conversation to either him or something fleeting, such as art, travel, or a half-remembered dream. Still, she fascinated him. She had a rare ability to give stillness a life of its own. To Ethan, love didn't need to be messy. It could be well-composed.

ing. Her secrets, he assumed, were akin to h

one call-one Ethan

week's dinner with his mother. Ethan, thinking she'd gone upstairs, wandered in

And he doesn't need t

tching along the phone case as if she were counting down the minutes, her p

se. "Just keep your distance. I owe that much to you. The call ended and Camille turned, startled to see him in the doorway. For a

, slipping the phone into her si

rained and mechan

o stop staring at it. The following days were a blur. Camille, if she noticed his unease, didn't say. She continued her meticulous planning, showing up to brunches with his parents and navigating venu

the wedding, Ethan found a letter in Camille's handwriting tucked inside a stack of event schedules. It

world is made of glass. Clean, perfect, and fragile. And mine... mine was born

yet feel betrayal; rather, he felt an erosion. As if the woman he was

g-not directly, but with quest

er deceived m

"Ethan, everyone

rds hurt. But it was the first

e you loved my ce

yptic smile. "I loved tha

t was real anymore-her love, her