A Rehearsal For Breakup..

INDIEGO

“I’ll dance with you,” I muttered finally, my gaze filled with determination as I looked up at him.

A grin curled his lips—slow, wicked, and full of mischief. Typical him. “Knew you’d see reason, sweetheart.”

He pulled me gently into position, one hand finding my waist, the other hand lacing with mine. I felt my skin prickle at the warm contact, sending a jolt through me.

“Relax,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the back of my hand softly like an afterthought. “You’re stiffer than a corpse. You make it feel as though this is your condemnation, Indigo. It’s a dance.”

“I’m trying.” I frowned at him as slow music began to play in the background and we moved steadily.

“No, you’re overthinking.” He leaned closer, his breath softly brushing the shell of my ear. “Stop staring like you're here to collect a debt and look at me instead.”

“I’m not—” I countered, looking back at him for a second before my gaze strayed.

“You’re literally looking at them right now.” He pointed out, no amusement in his voice now as he led me gently amidst the other people coupled up and practicing their moves too.

I flinched visibly. “No, I’m not.”

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, a smirk tugging at his lips again as I looked up at him, “your eyes have been glued to the Romeo and Juliet of this room since the music started. You want me to twirl you that way so you get a better view?” He joked.

“Slade.” My words were laced with a warning.

“Indigo.” His voice softened, teasing but layered with something else—something dangerously close to sincerity. The kind that I didn't really want to hear right now. “If you’re going to use me as a distraction, at least commit.”

Something in my clicked at that and I felt indignation bubble up in my chest while my cheeks heated up.

“I’m not using you.” I forced the words out, trying not to look at him again.

Was i using him? Is that what this looked like? I hated that he could see right through me and I hated that I didn't know how to shut him out.

“Sure.” He chuckled, his voice low and amused like he knew I was lying and he wasn't buying it. “So the way you keep glancing at the loverboy kissing his fiancée is just… a hobby? Would have thought that you'd learn after yesterday”

Shame coiled low in my guts.

I snapped my gaze up to look at him, fury burning in my eyes. “Can we just focus?”

“Oh, I am focused.” His palm pressed firmly at my lower back, pulling me closer so I was pressed against his chest. “You, however, are not.”

“Slade—” I couldn't help but look down at my feet, cursing myself.

“Eyes up here, princess.” He ordered, his voice filled with a commanding authority that sent a shiver down my spine.

Despite myself, I obeyed and his grin widened like he’d won. “There we go. That’s better,” he murmured, guiding me through a slow spin, his hand steadying me like always. “See? Dancing with me doesn’t bite” His voice dripped low and his breath brushed against the shell of my ear. “Unless you ask nicely.”

A groan escaped my lips. There was my reminder that he was insufferable. “Please stop talking.”

“I’d rather not.” He lowered his head to my neck, his voice dropping down an octave, his voice velvety and smooth. “You’re cute when you’re pretending you don’t enjoy me. I see it in your eyes.”

There was a tick in my jaw at that and I glared at him, my attention now fully on him. “It's not pretending if I'm actually fed up by you”

“Uh-huh. Sure you do ” His tone dripped with mocking disbelief.

Before I could snap back at him with a snarky comment, movement on the other side of the room caught my attention. Braxton dipped Bianca into a spin, both laughing softly. Not once did he glance my way. Not once did he falter in his steps like I did for him.

My chest tightened at the sight and then—Bianca looked right at me. Like she knew I was staring.

The smile faded from her face as she straightened, adjusting the straps of her summer gown, murmured something to Brax, and started walking toward us.

I froze, instinctively clutching at Slade’s arm as I pulled away. Oh god, why was she coming here? What if she was here to embarrass me and tell me to stay away?

“Easy,” Slade murmured under his breath. “Don’t look like you feel guilty or anything”

“I’m not—” I muttered, ignoring the erratic thuds of my heart.

“She’s coming to talk to you, sweetheart. Shoulders back. Chin up. You don’t flinch, you don’t fold. Got it?”

Bianca stopped in front of us, her expression gentle—too gentle. “Indie,” she began, hands clasped together. “Can we talk?”

I swallowed. “About what?”

She smiled, her eyes filled with gentle sincerity. “I just wanted to clear the air and all before the wedding tomorrow. I know we’ve had our… differences. I said things, did things, that I’m not proud of. I’ve grown since then, you know? I know you're not exactly fond of me”

For a moment, I could only stare at her. Why exactly were we having this conversation now? I was aware of everyone staring at us, waiting for me to say something which never came.

“I’m serious.” Her tone softened further when I didn't reply. “I don’t want bad blood between us. I was hoping maybe we could… hang out. Go shopping. Spend some time together so you can see I’m not that girl anymore.”

I paused and blinked at her. “Shopping.” My tone dripped with incredulity.

“Yes.”

Before I could reply, Braxton suddenly appeared behind her, resting his hand on her shoulder. His eyes gleamed with what seemed to be pride. “That’s sweet, baby.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

The room collectively sighed at the gesture, meanwhile, my stomach turned.

Slade muttered, “Oh, how touching. Someone grab a camera so we can capture the moment.”

I ignored him, locking eyes with Bianca. “That’s… nice. But maybe next time, start with a private conversation instead of a public performance. Unless the audience was the whole point.”

Her eyes widened. “What? No. I just thought—”

“You thought this would look good,” I cut in. “You didn’t come here to make peace. You came for eye service.”

I didn't know what I was saying but I was sincerely tired of all this. Why was I being made to look like the bad person? Firstly, I confessed my feelings to the man she was supposed to marry and now, I'm supposedly keeping grudges with her?

The room was alive with low murmur. “Indie,” Teresa’s voice broke in gently as she stepped forward from the corner she had been watching from, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Is something wrong?”

I opened my mouth, but Braxton beat me to it.

“Enough!” he snapped, voice sharp. “Can you stop making everything about you for once? Bianca’s trying to fix things between you, something you haven't even tried to do, and you’re twisting it like she’s the villain. You’re being a terrible friend, Indie. Don’t take your problem with me out on her. Can't you see she's being genuine?”

The words hit like a slap and I felt my heart tear at the seams.

But before I could react, Slade scoffed loudly, his arm crossed tightly over his chest.

“Oh, here we go,” he drawled. “Saint Braxton, savior of the helpless bride. Get off your high horse, man. Not everything revolves around you.”

Braxton turned, glaring at him. “Stay out of this, Slade. I do not appreciate your opinion about my personal life. Just go back to wherever you crawled from”

Teresa looked like she was about to have a concussion right there and I was stuck right in the middle.

“Can’t. Too entertaining.” Slade stepped forward, sarcasm dripping in every word he said. “You ever stop to think, maybe—just maybe—you should’ve run it by your best friend before you decided to marry her bully? Give her time to process? To, you know, reconcile? Or did you just figure she’d smile and clap like a good little sidekick? Is that the picture you painted of her? Of course she's your best friend so she has to agree to everything you said and did. Is that it?”

The room fell silent.

Braxton froze, color draining from his face and even I couldn’t hide my surprise. For once, someone said what I’d been choking on for days.

Slade crossed his arms, eyes glinting when Braxton didn't reply. “Didn’t think so.”

The once cheery room was heavy with tension and no one said or did anything. Finally, Teresa cleared her throat softly. “Well,” she said with forced cheer in her voice, “I have an idea for the recession. Why don’t we start from the top? Yes?”

Everyone nodded, grateful for the distraction. People shuffled about, trying to get back in place.

Slade’s gaze flicked back to me, a ghost of a smirk playing at his lips as he mouthed. “You're welcome”

God help me, I almost smiled.