Semua Bab The Vows We Fake : Bab 21 - Bab 30

"Then why do you care about me so much?" Zane asked. "Because I loved you," I whispered, before I could stop myself. His eyes widened just a little bit but he kept silent. "And maybe some part of me still wants to believe you didn’t forget me. That this whole... act is a lie. It’s hard on me, Zane. Watching my ex get married to my ex-best friend. Planning their wedding. It’s hard. And I’m angry and hurt but still… I care about you. Always have, always will." He stared at me like I was unraveling everything inside him. But he still said nothing. He took me in… my eyes, my nose, my lips. Especially my lips. As if he was memorizing every inch of them. As if he wanted to kiss them. The intensity of his gaze made my legs shudder. I let out a deep breath and removed my chin from his grasp. I walked over to my table and leaned on it. “I thought you were with Sera for the night,” I said. Best to bring her up so that we both remember our places. “I was.” He was lying. His nose turned red

I stared at Zane’s retreating form until he turned round the corner. My fists were still clenched so tightly, my jaw locked. So he knew I was looking into Julian. How did he know? CCTV perhaps? No, Zane won’t invade my privacy like that. Maybe Julian told him about the message and Zane out two and two together. But the estranged cousins weren’t close enough to be having that kind of conversations. The next morning, the glass atrium shimmered with the late morning light. With my clipboard in hand, I moved between tables lined with white orchids, trying to keep my expression neutral. The scent of gardenias clung to the air, heavy and too sweet. Sera’s heels clicked softly behind me. I recognized her walking steps. “So early?” she asked, her tone too sweet. “Someone has to make sure this fairy tale doesn’t fall apart,” I replied, not looking at her. “You’ve always been diligent, Amara. That’s what I liked about you.” She paused. "Are we really doing gardenias here? Seems a bit... ba

The Montclaire Grand Hall was decorated beautifully. Gold-trimmed drapes swayed beneath soaring chandeliers, while waiters in black bowties floated through the crowd, glasses of rosé perched on polished trays. An orchestra played something elegant in the background, the kind of music that filled silences between laughter and gossip of rich people. I stood near a marble pillar at the edge of the ballroom, the chill of the stone grounding me. My black dress was simple and understated. I wanted to blend in comfortably. It was comfortable enough to hide the slight limp in my steps due to my injury a few days ago. I traced the rim of my untouched champagne glass, eyes trained on the stage being prepped across the room. The crowd was filled with influence. Politicians, moguls, socialites, influencers. The wedding had become a spectacle, and tonight’s gala was the opening act. Sponsors had been whispering about turning the event into a brand: The Wedding Of The Decade. I felt like an i

The next morning, I woke early, bloodshot eyes and a heart heavy as stone. The days to come seemed daunting, but I had hardened my mind. Get through this wedding… and get it over with. Leah was already buzzing around with my tablet and schedule, trying to drag me into professionalism, but I barely heard her. Another venue inspection loomed ahead, and Zane had insisted I be there in person. Something about “vision synergy.” When I got the email, I’d almost thrown the tablet across the room. But I went. Because that’s what professionals do. And also because he was my employer. I had to go. Bellmare Estate was a breathtaking cliffside estate, marble and glass, bathed in late-morning light. The kind of place you’d dream of marrying someone you loved. It was eerie. I remember the strange feeling I got when I heard that the couple I was working for chose Bellmare. That was the venue of choice for me and Zane five years ago. Now that I think about it… why did Zane chose Bellmare when he di

Zane had been silent through it all. And then he coughed. “Amara,” Zane said. “There seems to be another confusion about the bridesmaid fabric.” “I have the approved sample in my file,” I said evenly, handing it over. “The decorator received it a week ago.” Sera snatched it, lips pursing. “This isn’t blush taupe. This is mauve. Mauve is a funeral color.” “It’s the exact swatch you signed off on. You wrote the initials yourself.” “I did not.” Sera turned to Zane. “I think she’s deliberately undermining things. There have been too many mistakes lately.” “Sera, I’m too busy to play cat and mouse with you. I frankly don’t care about your wedding. I want to do my job and get paid.” Sera‘s nostrils flared. She was angry; I could tell. She was like a kettle soon to boil over. She turned to her fiancé. “Zane? What do you have to say about this?” We both turned to him. Sera narrowed her eyes at him, silently daring him to take my side. I lowered my expectations to the barest minimum. Of