The champagne sat between them like an accusation, its golden surface reflecting the flickering candlelight that her mother had so thoughtfully arranged. Aria stared at the bottle, her fingers tracing the condensation on her crystal flute while the silence stretched thin as wire between them.Ethan had moved to the floor-to-ceiling windows, his hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the city sprawled below them. The lights twinkled like fallen stars, beautiful and distant, much like everything else about this surreal evening. His white dress shirt was still crisp despite the long day, but she could see the tension in his shoulders, the rigid line of his spine that spoke of carefully controlled restraint."Your mother has excellent taste," he said finally, his voice cutting through the quiet. "This wine is from Bordeaux, 1989. A very good year."Aria took a larger sip than she'd intended, the liquid burning slightly as it slid down her throat. "She's been saving it for thirty-tw
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