Some laughed, others murmured congratulations.
Lucas froze, his face pale. He stepped forward without realizing it, then halted.
Zayden turned to Ava, his eyes softening.
"Smile." She obeyed, smiling faintly.
Zayden lifted his glass, and said to the audience, "Thank you."
The moment passed, as music and conversations continued even louder.
Lucas stood, his wine glass midway to his lips, his gaze fixed on her. His eyes were raw with hurt, that hit her chest like a knife.
She hadn't expected to see him. Not here, not now. Their past still stood between them.
Ava looked away first.
Zayden pulled her closer; his hand rested on her waist, as if reminding anyone watching she belonged exactly where she stood.
Lucas finally tore his eyes away from her.
"You did well," Zayden said.
"You didn't warn me about this earlier," Ava complained.
"I did tell you this was a public appearance."
Ava stayed quiet, biting her lips.
The noise returned, laughter and voices filling the room.
Zayden led her through the crowd, his hand still at her waist. People spoke to him like nothing had changed, like he hadn't just turned her world upside down.
She answered when spoken to, and smiled when expected. It felt rehearsed.
Her eyes swept the room with hopes of seeing Lucas, but he was gone.
Zayden noticed her tense slightly and leaned closer. "Focus."
She nodded, though her thoughts were elsewhere.
Time passed quickly, and when Zayden glanced at his watch, she felt relieved.
"It's late, we should go," he said, and Ava gave a small nod.
They excused themselves and left quietly. Outside, the night air felt cool against her skin. Ava sucked in air as they got into the car, the door closing softly behind them. She realized how tense she had been.
Her thoughts returned to Lucas, his face, the hurt he hadn't hidden.
When they got home, the house felt quiet, empty, almost too still.
Zayden loosened his tie and set his jacket aside. "Want something to drink?"
"Yes. Wine."
He looked at her and nodded. "Red?"
"Yes."
He poured two glasses and handed one to her before sitting across from her. Ava sank onto the couch, holding the glass with both hands.
They sat quietly for a moment.
Then she laughed. It slipped out before she realized, startling even herself. Zayden raised his brows slightly, confused.
"I'm married," she said, shaking her head.
"Legally too," Zayden added.
Ava took a sip of her wine, then another. The tension had eased from her shoulders.
"This isn't how I expected tonight to go," she murmured.
"Life rarely goes as planned."
She shifted, leaning toward him a little. "And you… stayed so calm at the event."
"I had to."
She studied his face, eyes half-closed. "Do you ever get nervous?"
"Rarely."
She gave a soft, tipsy laugh. "I figured."
"You know, Lucas… he always hated events like that," she murmured, cheeks warm, her words slurring slightly from the wine.
Zayden glanced at her, his fingers tapping lightly against the side of his glass.
"He said people smiled too much when they wanted something. He'd stand beside me, and... and whisper jokes just to make me laugh," she went on, leaning slightly against the couch.
Her words caught in her throat. "I thought… I thought he'd fight for me, for us."
Zayden said nothing, staring blankly at her.
Ava moved closer. Her fingers brushed his cheek, then rested against his face.
"Why didn't you fight for us? Why did you let them win?" she whispered, tears falling.
Zayden stiffened.
For a moment he didn't move. Then slowly, he brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. He studied her more closely than usual, though he didn't allow the thought to settle.
"You aren't talking to the right man," he said.
She didn't hear him. Her eyes closed, and she leaned in.
And kissed him.
He didn't pull away at first.
Ava's lips brushed his, carrying the faint taste of wine. She waited for a second too long, as if she expected him to pull her closer, or stop her entirely. Her hands rested against his face.
Then reality hit him.
"Ms. Morre," he began.
He took her wrists gently and lowered her hands, leaning back enough to create space.
Her eyes jerked opened. She blinked, realizing what she had done.
Her lips still lingered with the warmth of the kiss, but her thoughts were clearer now.
"I… I thought…" she trailed, as heat rushed to her face.
She pulled back fully, covering her mouth. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I thought you were…" she stopped, unable to finish.
She couldn't say the name.
Lucas.
The name hung between them without being said.
Zayden breathed out and put his glass down. "You're drunk."
She shook her head weakly. "Not that drunk."
"Enough."
Ava laughed nervously and stood up. "Tonight was a mess. I embarrassed myself."
You didn't," he said.
She turned to him, and said, "I kissed my husband thinking he was someone else."
"You kissed me because you were hurting. That's different."
Ava sighed, the fight leaving her all at once.
"I still love him, or maybe I love who he used to be. I don't know," she said.
Zayden watched her closely, catching the way her hands fidgeted, and how her tough act had faded.
"This arrangement doesn't rewrite your past."
She looked at him, surprised. "You aren't annoyed?"
"No."
"Not even a little bit?"
"I'm not."
She swallowed and nodded. "Thank you."
She rubbed her arms, suddenly exhausted. "I think I need to bed."
"Agreed."
He stood and motioned towards the stairs. "Go upstairs."
She rolled her eyes. "Bossy as usual."
She took a step, then another, her legs still unsteady from the wine.
Zayden steadied her until she regained her balance. She laughed quietly, embarrassed but relieved.
"Okay, maybe the wine hit me a bit harder than I thought," she admitted.
He guided her upstairs, his hand resting lightly on her elbow. At her door, she paused and looked at him.
"Mr. Zayden?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you… for tonight."
He nodded. "Get some rest."
She gave a small smile. "Goodnight, Mr. Zayden."
"Goodnight, Ms. Morre."
She closed the door behind her. He stood there for a moment, before turning away.
He had noticed Ava before. Tonight was not an exception... except it was.
This arrangement was meant to be simple. He suspected it wasn't anymore.
Morning would bring consequences, and keeping things professional wouldn't stay easy for long.