Daniel and I had only been on one “date,” if you could even count walking drunkenly around his parents’ property a date, before he kissed me in a boathouse. And then didn’t call me for more than a week.
“Are you okay, Daniel? You sound a little off.”
“I’m fine, honey,” he slurred quickly. “I keep thinking about that night we danced at Mom and Dad’s party. Before Lucas showed up and ruined everything. I keep remembering how much I wanted to kiss you. You gonna let me kiss you again one of these days, gorgeous?”
The words stung, though I wasn’t sure why. “Lucas didn’t ruin anything. You had to leave for the hospital?—”
“Right. Thehospital.” Daniel’s laugh was bitter. “With theHubbards. Never-ending, that ‘hospital trip.’”
I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know who the Hubbards were beyond the fact that one was a senator, or why they were so frustrating to him. “Daniel?—”
“I miss you, Marie. I really do.” His voice slurred again. “Keep thinking about those pretty eyes. Those pretty lips. God, you’re pretty, you know that?”
I wanted to feel something at his words. I really did. I yearned for the rush of attraction that had sustained my crush for years, but all I felt was distance. Like he was speaking to someone else entirely.
“I miss you too,” I heard myself say. But the words were wooden.
“Good. When do you get back, honey? Wanna pick up where we left off?”
“Almost three weeks. Lucas has a lot of meetings?—”
“Of course he does.”
His voice was so full of vitriol that I held the phone away from my ear and looked at the contact photo on my screen. Daniel’s perfect smile, his blue eyes, the golden tan.
The slight redness at the tip of his nose.
I squinted.
It was subtle, but it was there. How had I never noticed it before? The faint flush that came from too much drinking, too many nights like this one.
The same flush that touched every photo of my mother I’d ever seen.
“Marie? You there?”
“Uh, yeah.” I held the phone back to my ear. “Sorry, yes. I’m here. But I should go. The next course is starting.”
He didn’t even ask what the course was for, which would have caught me out on a blatant lie. Still hadn’t even asked about what I was actually doing tonight.
“Sure, of course. Have fun with, I don’t know, your cookie sheets or whatever.” There was an edge to his voice that I didn’t like. “Just don’t forget about us little people back home.”
Before I could answer, the line went dead, leaving me staring at my phone.
I looked back toward the dance floor, where Lucas was still with the blonde. Every so often, he would glance around the party. I didn’t know if he was searching for me or for someone else. The people he was supposed to meet with, or maybe just another dance partner.
I shoved my phone back into my clutch, then turned to find a quiet spot. There was a bench along the wall near the edge of the pool, half in shadow, blessedly isolated.
I sat.
I looked down at my gown, this carefully curated version of myself. The hair, the heels, the clutch all felt like a costume for a story I’d written to survive Paris, brought home like a souvenir I didn’t know how to wear anymore.
Maybe I was never meant to be in the center of things. Obscurity had always been my companion: quiet corners, dim lights, polite silences. Before Paris, that life felt safe, if predictable. I was invisible, yes, but not exposed.
Maybe that’s who I really was. Maybe it’s who I was always meant to be.
The problem was, I didn’t know if I could go back to that life of obscurity.
Not after someone looked at me like I wasn’t invisible. Even if he didn’t really believe it himself.