9
After leaving my office, Pedro made his relationship with Lily officially official. They posted a video, holding
hands and gazing at each other like stars in a romantic movie.
The comments were filled with fans losing their minds, wishing them a lifetime of happiness.
I joined them in wishing them the same.
Before their official wedding day, Pedro found me again. He blocked my path as I was leaving work and han ded me a garish red invitation. “I’m getting married next month. I want you to be there.”
I glanced at the names-Pedro Lynn and Lily Reed-and nodded. “Congratulations.”
Pedro stared at my face, searching for any flicker of emotion, any hint of heartbreak. But there was nothing. I felt no lingering attachment to him whatsoever.
He pressed on, his voice desperate. “I said, I’m getting married.”
I nodded again. “I heard you. And I said congratulations. If that’s not enough, I can say it again. Congratulati- ons to you both. May the happy couple last forever.”
He finally lost his composure. He glared at me, and then a cold, calculating smile spread across his face. “S- tella Sterling, you’ve got guts. You don’t believe I’ll really go through with it, do you?”
“Well, I will.”
“You think you can force my hand by pulling the funding and the venue for my exhibition, hoping my paintings won’t sell? You’re wrong. I’m holding the exhibition and the wedding on the same day. I’m going to show you, and the whole world, that without you, Stella Sterling, Pedro Lynn is doing just fine.”
