“Wedding planning does crazy things to people.”
“She probably didn’t mean it.”
Daniel heard every word.
And believed none of them.
By nine o’clock, the backyard was nearly empty. Half-finished champagne glasses sat abandoned on tables. The expensive cake remained untouched beneath melting candles.
Inside the house, Vanessa spent hours complaining loudly on the phone about how Daniel had “ruined her night.”
Not once did she apologize.
Daniel slept on the couch with a swollen cheek and dried blood on his lip while the sapphire ring sat alone on the coffee table beneath the glow of a streetlight coming through the window.
It looked beautiful.
Quiet.
Innocent.
Like evidence.
The next morning somehow felt worse.
Vanessa walked into the kitchen perfectly dressed, makeup flawless, coffee in hand, acting as if nothing had happened at all.
She kissed Daniel lightly on the forehead.
“Let’s just move on from last night,” she said casually.
Daniel stared at her.
No apology.
No guilt.
No acknowledgment of the bruise darkening across his face.
Nothing.
An hour later, his phone buzzed.
Emily.
Are you okay?
Daniel stared at the message for almost a full minute before replying.
I’m fine.
Her response came instantly.
