It’s surreal,watching her slip back into the fold like she never left. I mean, she always had control over the group—more like it was her friends, and I was tagging along because we were together.
Hannah is hugging her while Nicole squeals loudly over her dress. Athena laughs easily, tilts her head just so, and every move is rehearsed perfection. My mother beams, and my father nods in approval like she’s already the daughter-in-law he ordered. Everyone is enamored by her charm. She turns to me then, her smile landing like a weapon. “Connie. You didn’t think I’d miss this, did you?”
And me? I sit there like a prop in my own life.
She leans closer, brushing my arm as if it’s still hers. “It’s been too long,” she says warmly, eyes glinting. “I was just telling your mother I can’t believe I stayed away this long.”
“Yeah,” I manage. My voice is flat by design, practiced. Too many eyes on us for me to show how I really feel. “Time gets away.”
One of my cousins steps in, greeting her, complimenting her shoes. More laughter. It’s endless, this parade of welcome-backs,like the entire room has been waiting for Athena to walk through the door and make everything right again.
And I can’t breathe.
When the tide of greetings finally ebbs, her attention snaps back to me, her hand slipping over my sleeve again. “Connie,” she murmurs, low enough for only me. “Why don’t you show me around? Catch me up?”
I force a tight smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. “Sure.”
I push back from the table, my chair scraping, and guide her away with a hand at the small of her back. She doesn’t notice the stiffness in my touch, the way my jaw locks as we weave past tables, past the noise and champagne, until the double doors swing shut behind us.
The hallway is quieter, cooler.
I turn on her the second we’re alone. “We need to talk.”
She steps gracefully out of the doorway and turns to me with that perfect, polished smile.
“Connor,” she says, voice low, amused. “Dragging me out like that? People are going to think we’re sneaking away.”
I don’t smile. “Athena, what are you doing here?”
Her head tilts, glossy hair slipping over one shoulder. “I was invited. Your mother sent me the sweetest message—she said she hoped I’d surprise you.” Her hand lifts to my arm again, familiar, practiced. “And I thought… why not?”
My stomach knots. “You shouldn't have.”
She laughs softly, the kind of laugh that used to make me think she was untouchable. “You needed time, Connie. I gave it to you. I assumed that meant we’d pick up where we left off.”
I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “There is no picking up. We broke up. ”
Her smile falters but only for a beat. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.” My voice is harder now, echoing faintly against the marble. “We’re done.”
She folds her arms, eyebrows rising, coy again. “You’ve said that before, and yet here we are. You’ve always come back, Connor. Always.”
She’s not wrong. I ended things before—half a dozen times, maybe more. Each time she waited me out, certain I’d fold. And I always did. Until now.
I let out a humorless laugh, rough at the edges. “Not this time.”
Her lips part, eyes narrowing, something sharp in them now. “So what, then? You throw everything away for some… fling? Nicole?—”
Before I can answer, the doors creak open behind us. My mother steps out, concern tightening her face, and my father follows, his hand already raised in warning.
“Connor,” my mother says quickly, scanning Athena, then me. “Please. Let’s not make a scene, darling.”
Athena straightens instantly, the perfect picture of composure. “We were just talking, Genevieve,” she says lightly, as if my chest isn’t on fire. “Catching up.”
I can feel the rage climbing, pressing at my throat. And for once, I don’t want to swallow it back down.
I laugh, sharp and ugly. “Catching up? Is that what we’re calling this?”
