Loving you slowly

The laughter around her was a dull roar, a meaningless noise that buzzed in Antonella Rossi's ears as she sat rigidly at the head table. Crystal chandeliers bathed the ballroom in golden light, glinting off champagne glasses and the sequins of designer gowns. Everything about the evening screamed perfection-perfect smiles, perfect lies.

She should have been happy. She should have been glowing with excitement, preparing for the moment she had dreamed of for years.

Instead, a knot of unease twisted in her stomach, pulling tighter with every second that ticked by.

Antonella smoothed a hand over the pale blue silk of her dress, the one Drake had once told her made her look like a dream he never wanted to wake up from. She forced a smile when guests leaned in to chat, nodding along even though she couldn't hear a word they said over the pounding of her heart.

Tonight was supposed to be it.

Five years. Five years of late nights waiting up for Drake to come home, of standing by him through failed ventures and whispered scandals. Five years of believing she mattered enough-believing they mattered enough-to survive anything.

Everyone expected it. The buzz had been growing for weeks. Antonella had caught the glances, the murmured congratulations, the sly smiles. Tonight was supposed to end with a ring on her finger and a new beginning in front of all the people who had always doubted her.

She lifted her champagne glass to her lips, taking a sip she didn't taste, her eyes scanning the room for him. Drake was standing near the stage, his head bent as he spoke to Amira.

Antonella's chest tightened painfully.

Amira.

The golden girl. Always at the center of every room, every conversation. Dressed tonight in a shimmering gold gown that clung to her curves and caught the light like she was the sun itself.

Antonella swallowed hard, willing herself not to spiral. Drake and Amira had grown up together, their families intertwined for years. It wasn't strange for them to be close.

Was it?

As if sensing her gaze, Drake glanced up and smiled at her-brief, almost absent. Then he turned back to Amira, laughing at something she said.

Antonella looked away, her cheeks burning.

Stop it, she scolded herself. You're being paranoid. Tonight is the night. He loves you.

She clutched that thought like a lifeline, even as doubt gnawed at the edges.

A sudden hush fell over the crowd.

The emcee's voice boomed through the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, if we could have your attention please!"

All eyes turned to the stage. Antonella's heart leapt into her throat as Drake stepped up, microphone in hand.

"This won't take long," he said, flashing that practiced, easy grin that had charmed her once upon a time. "I just couldn't let this night end without doing something... special."

A ripple of excitement ran through the room. Antonella's breath caught.

Here it is, she thought, pressing a trembling hand to her chest.

Drake turned slightly-and dropped to one knee.

The room erupted in gasps and applause. Cameras flashed. Champagne sloshed in glasses as guests surged closer, eager to witness the moment.

Antonella rose slightly from her seat, her heart in her mouth-until she realized he wasn't looking at her.

He was looking at Amira.

And Amira, glowing with triumph, was looking right back.

"Amira," Drake said, his voice warm, earnest. "From the moment I met you, I knew you were meant to be in my life. You are the light in every dark place, the laughter in every quiet room. Will you marry me?"

Antonella couldn't breathe.

Couldn't move.

Couldn't think.

The applause grew deafening as Amira clapped a hand over her mouth in mock surprise, tears glistening in her eyes. She nodded, squealed out a yes, and flung herself into Drake's arms as he slid a massive diamond ring onto her finger.

Antonella sat frozen, her body numb, her mind shattering into a thousand jagged pieces.

She heard the cheers, the clinking of glasses. She saw her father beaming with pride, her stepmother dabbing at her eyes. She even caught the pitying glance from one of the family friends across the room-a glance that said, Poor Antonella. Left behind again.