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Simon pushed the partially open door and entered. His voice wasn’t booming, but it carried a gravity akin to steel striking concrete, exuding an inexplicable intensity.
The spacious chamber abruptly went quiet. Everyone noticed a young woman following Simon. That young
woman was me.
Zack remained motionless in his seat. However, the wine glass he’d been toying with suddenly cracked in his grasp.
Olivia cried out in alarm, “Oh no, Zack, you’re hurt…”
“Leave.”
“Zack?”
“I told you to leave, don’t you understand?”
Zack abruptly rose and forcefully smashed the broken
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wine glass on the floor. Olivia stood stunned for a moment before bursting into tears and fleeing. The other occupants of the room wisely departed one by
one.
Zack’s arm hung limply, blood trickling to the floor. He appeared oblivious to the pain, his gaze fixed intently
on Simon.
Eventually, he lifted his hand, pointing at me. “Simon, would you care to explain this?”
Simon’s fingers, concealed by his sleeve, tightened around mine. His grip was firm and reassuring, offering an inexplicable sense of protection.
“Explain what?”
“Why is Lola here with you?”
“You invited me to bring my girlfriend to your birthday celebration, didn’t you?”
Simon clasped my hand and drew me closer, draping his arm around me.
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