Cellie's POV
I did not find the restroom.
I found the library, which was the room I had stood in before during a previous terrible evening at this mansion and which apparently was becoming my specific destination when things went catastrophically wrong in this house. I closed the door behind me and slid to the floor against it and cried.
Not the quiet kind. The kind that arrived when the body had been holding something at pressure for long enough and could not anymore, the kind that did not ask permission or consider timing, the kind that arrived with the specific knowledge underneath it that I had been fooling myself.
He was marrying Valentina.
The dinner table had produced his father saying it, my mother celebrating it, Valentina arriving in red like someone who had been told the occasion was hers, and Demetrio sitting at the head of it all and not saying the one thing that would have made any difference.
