At least, that was the lie he’d told himself all day.
Now, standing here, heart rattling like glass in a carriage rut, he knew better.
She was here. He could feel it before he saw her.
A laugh to his right. A burst of color to his left. Too many women in too many pale gowns. And then–
He saw her.
Across the room. Near the far edge of the dance floor, beneath a gilded arch. She was standing beside a man in deep green evening wear, her gloved hand resting lightly on his arm.
Matthew.
Of course it was Matthew.
Henry’s stomach turned.
Anna tilted her head slightly, listening to something Vaun had said. She wore silver tonight, simple, elegant. A narrow band of silk around her waist, the sleeves just off the shoulder. Her hair was arranged more softly than usual, looser. She looked–
She looked breathtakingly beautiful.
And unreachable.
Matthew leaned in slightly. Said something. She smiled.
Henry’s fingers curled at his side. He wanted to cross the room. He wanted to pull her away. He wanted to rip that man's hand off her arm.
Someone brushed past him. He barely registered it.
She hadn’t seen him yet. Or maybe she had. Maybe she was pretending not to.
The quartet began a new set. Dancers spilled forward into the open space. A few people brushed past him. Someone greeted him by name. He didn’t reply.
Then, suddenly– she turned.
Their eyes met.
Everything slowed.
The sound in the room dulled. The music faded. For one breathless moment, it was just her– just Anna– staring back at him with something unreadable in her eyes.
Then she blinked.
And then… she looked away.
She didn’t flinch.
She simply turned her head back to Matthew and said something, then she was lost in the crush of the crowd.
Henry stood frozen.
His mouth was dry, his hands curled into fists at his sides, but he couldn’t feel anything except the slow, crushing weight in his chest.
His hands clenched at his sides.
She hadn’t hesitated. Not even for a second.
He’d told himself it was better this way. That he was protecting her. That he could live with the cost.