Chapter 3: A Dance of Pretenses

The ceremony started, and I tried my best to stay composed. Weddings were never my scene, and tonight felt worse because of the circus surrounding me. My arm was linked with Adrian’s, and I had to remind myself repeatedly: act natural. Act like he wasn’t a hired stranger, act like you weren’t seething every time Mark smiled at someone else, act like you didn’t want to storm out.

Adrian moved with ease, offered polite smiles to the guests who stared, and nodded when someone complimented him, all without looking stiff or fake. I didn’t know whether to be grateful or irritated at how good he was at this.

I scanned the crowd. Cassy was lurking somewhere near, plotting her snarky remarks. And then there was Lucia, glowing in her dress, laughing at things I couldn’t hear, smiling like she’d never done anything cruel. The memory of what I had walked in on—Mark and her—burned in my chest, and I clenched my jaw.

Adrian leaned slightly toward me. “You okay?”

I nodded, trying to hide the shake in my hands. “Fine. Just… people.”

“People are overrated,” he said with a grin, just loud enough for me to hear. Then added, teasing, “But you? You seem like the type who could burn a ballroom down just by glaring.”

I smirked despite myself. “Careful, Adrian. You might end up being collateral damage.”

We reached our assigned seats in the front rows. I tried to pick a spot where I could keep Mark in view without looking obvious. Adrian slid in beside me, whispering, “Relax. I’ve got this. You just look stunning, like you actually belong here.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is that your acting talking, or are you just trying to flatter me?”

He chuckled. “A little of both. Works every time.”

Vows were exchanged, rings slid onto fingers, promises of eternal love echoed through the hall. My stomach twisted. I shouldn’t feel anything, yet I couldn’t help but notice how carefully Mark’s eyes searched the crowd, maybe catching mine for a split second. My ex, the man I once loved, now professing love to the woman who stabbed me in the back. And here I was, pretending to be someone I wasn’t, linked to a man I barely knew.

A soft nudge against my arm made me glance at Adrian. He whispered, “Dance with me later. You’ll survive the ceremony better if you have some fun after.”

I blinked. “Fun? You call this fun?”

He smirked. “Pretending to be someone else at a wedding? Absolutely.”

It was the first time I actually laughed tonight, short and bitter but real. And just like that, a little weight lifted from my chest. Maybe having Adrian here wasn’t so bad. At least he wasn’t fake like the rest of them.

The ceremony ended, and guests started moving toward the reception area. I adjusted my dress, trying to look composed. Adrian guided us through the crowd, whispering small pieces of advice: “Smile. Nod. Laugh lightly at the right time.”

We reached the dance floor, where the first song had started—a slow, romantic tune that made me want to roll my eyes. Adrian extended his hand with a charming smile. “Shall we?”

I hesitated. “You’re sure about this?”

“Completely.”

So I took his hand, and we moved to the rhythm. Surprisingly, it felt natural. His lead was steady and confident, making it easy to forget this was all an act. Almost.

Halfway through the song, I caught Mark’s eyes on me. Just a flicker, but it was enough to make my chest tighten. I looked away quickly, focusing on Adrian, who gave a small, reassuring squeeze of my hand.

“You don’t have to think about them,” he murmured. “Just this moment.”

I wanted to argue, but I didn’t. For the first time in hours, I let myself enjoy the pretense. I laughed softly at one of his jokes, letting my head rest briefly on his shoulder. The ballroom faded around me, and I realized tonight wasn’t about Mark or Lucia. Tonight was about survival, about taking control of my story—even if it meant pretending for a few hours.

And Adrian… well, Adrian made pretending feel almost real. Almost.

The music slowed further, and I felt eyes on me again. Cassy hovered near the edge of the dance floor, sipping her champagne and whispering to the others with that smug little grin of hers. I rolled my eyes, wishing I could evaporate. Adrian, sensing my discomfort, tilted his head and whispered, “Ignore them. They feed on reactions.”

I clenched my jaw but nodded. He was right. The less they got from me, the less they’d enjoy themselves.

Then I felt it—a light brush against my hand. A little girl, probably the flower girl, was holding my fingers, looking up with wide eyes. Her innocence broke through my irritation, and I knelt slightly to smile.

“You’re a good dancer,” she said seriously.

I laughed softly. “Thanks, sweetie. You’re very brave to dance in front of all these people.”

She beamed and scampered off. Adrian chuckled quietly beside me. “See? People aren’t all bad.”

I shook my head, smiling genuinely for the first time that night. “Maybe not all.”

The song ended, and applause rippled through the room. Guests clapped politely, some whispering about how perfect we looked together. I ignored them, glancing back at Mark, whose expression flickered in confusion when he saw us. Good. Let him wonder. Let him realize I wasn’t the same person who would silently endure betrayal.

Adrian leaned close. “Ready for the next one?”

I nodded, straightening my shoulders. “Let’s keep them guessing.”

We stepped off the dance floor together, a carefully orchestrated team of pretenses. And for the first time since I walked into the Rosewood ballroom, I felt… in control and I felt happier about it