Ten minutes. Side entrance.
My heartbeat steadied.
Patricia noticed. “Is someone meeting you?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
I hesitated.
For three years, I’d kept one part of my life away from the Sterling family—away from Arthur’s jokes, Chloe’s comparisons, and every dinner where my choices became something to judge.
But hiding no longer felt like protection.
“My husband,” I said.
Patricia blinked. “Your what?”
“My husband.”
“You’re married?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Three years.”
Her mouth opened, then closed. “To whom?”
“Julian Vance.”
The name settled slowly.
Julian wasn’t famous in the way my family measured fame, but most people in that ballroom knew who he was. He was a respected corporate attorney with a quiet, powerful reputation.
Patricia sat on the velvet bench. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I wanted one part of my life that wasn’t measured against Chloe.”
Her expression fell.
“I didn’t want Dad asking how much he earned, whether his family mattered, or whether he had settled for me.”
Patricia whispered, “I wish I had known.”
“I wish I had felt safe telling you.”
I smoothed my black dress, adjusted my heels, and stepped from the restroom into the grand foyer, leaving my mother alone on the marble floor.
At the side entrance, the heavy glass doors opened.
Julian Vance stepped into the warm corridor light. He wore a perfectly tailored dark suit, his expression calm, carrying the quiet authority that always made people notice him.
When his eyes found me, his sharp features softened. He took in my red lipstick, steady posture, and the wet trail across the carpet from the green dress I’d discarded in the restroom.
“Jessi,” Julian said softly, stepping close and resting his warm hand against the small of my back. “Are you okay?”
“I am now,” I replied, looking into his eyes. “My father pushed me into the terrace fountain in front of everyone.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed. “Arthur did that?”
“Yes. He thought it was a joke.”
