Chapter 37: Glances in the Garden

Dorrin’s POV

The garden was soaked in twilight, the kind of light that makes you believe the world has paused to breathe. The air was thick with the perfume of blooming peonies, clinging to my lungs, and the soft hum of water lilies drifting lazily across the lake seemed to mock the pounding in my chest. Everything shimmered under the golden haze of dusk—half caught in day, half surrendering to night.

I lingered at the edge of it all, part of the gathering but not of it. My heart had no business here. Not when I knew who she belonged to. Not when every fiber of me still wanted her.

By the moss-lined pond, a white piano sat half-sunken into the shallows, as if some goddess had abandoned it long ago. Golden lights tangled across its lacquered surface, and wild pink and ivory blooms spilled over it like nature had claimed it for itself. It didn’t look placed—it looked discovered, sacred, untouchable.

Rows of chairs dressed in matching