The silence in the library after Richard left was deafening.Marcus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, my lipstick smearing across his skin. His eyes met mine—wild, panicked, and something else I couldn't name."Shit," he breathed. "Shit, shit, shit."I couldn't move, couldn't think past the roaring in my ears. Richard had seen us. Richard knew."We have to go out there," I managed, my voice shaking. "We have to—""Say what?" Marcus's laugh was bitter. "Sorry you caught us making out, Dad, but don't worry, it doesn't mean anything?""Does it?" The question slipped out before I could stop it. "Mean anything?"He stared at me, something raw and desperate in his expression. "You know it does. That's the problem."Voices drifted from the foyer—guests saying their goodbyes, the polite laughter of a successful evening. We were supposed to be out there, playing our roles as the perfect blended family."Fix your hair," Marcus said, his voice rough. "Your dress is twisted in the back."
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