The murmur of the secretaries' meeting that I was supposed to be paying attention to washed over me, each word blurring into the next. My mind was a mess, replaying Nicola's words on a loop.
Alexander was going to be married to Jamila Harris. I had no idea why it was still shocking to me when from the very start, all of this pretense was supposed to lead up to this very moment.
No that was a lie. I knew why it hurt like an arrow to the chest. The future I'd dared to dream of, the moments I'd shared with him in Prague that had felt like the start of something between us, were being snatched away with a single, cruel pronouncement. I was about to be ripped off like a band-aid.
I knew I should be happy. I could finally go back to writing, after being unable to focus on anything else since I became Ava Lincoln and I'd stop being a liar, so why were my eyes heavy with unused tears?