CHAPTER 3 — WELCOME BACK, STELLA
The welcome-back dinner had been held in a private room in Midtown, all velvet seating and overpriced cocktails that tasted like obligation.
Stella arrived late enough to make an entrance.
Her hair was glossy. Her smile was practiced. Her eyes went to Ethan before they went anywhere else.
When she saw me, the smile stayed.
Something behind it tightened.
She came over like we were already friends.
“Ava,” she said. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Ethan didn’t rise to greet her.
He didn’t even turn his body toward her.
He stayed angled toward me, hand resting lightly at my back as if he was anchoring a ship.
Stella noticed.
Her gaze slid to his hand.
Then back to my face.
“So you’re the girlfriend,” she said.
Ethan finally looked at her.
His expression was polite in the way a closed door is polite.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a stack of invitations.
“For the holidays,” he told the table, “I never know what to buy people. So I’m giving you a date.”
He passed invitations down like he was distributing subpoenas.
“I’m getting married,” he said. “You’re coming.”
Someone laughed and clapped.
Someone whistled.
Stella’s fingers froze around her glass.
Ethan stood and slid his arm around my waist.
“This is my wife,” he said, and kissed my temple like it was punctuation.
Stella’s eyes flashed.
Then she turned it into sweetness so fast it could have fooled anyone who wasn’t watching.
“Oh my god,” she said. “I’ve heard you and I look alike.”
She reached for my hand.
Up close, I saw it—the similar brows, the familiar shape of our eyes.
A coincidence that could be used like a knife.
“Let’s add each other,” she said. “If Ethan ever treats you wrong, I’ll punch him for you.”
She smiled wider.
“I’m his only female friend,” she added. “But don’t worry. I’m not a threat.”
I let my voice stay light.
“He won’t even raise his voice at me,” I said. “So I’m not sure what you’d have to punch.”
Stella’s laugh came out thin.
I kept going, still smiling.
“And honestly,” I said, “I didn’t know he had a friend like you. He never mentioned it.”
The air shifted.
Not dramatic.
Just a small change in Stella’s breathing.
“He probably didn’t want to upset you,” she said, too quickly.
Then she leaned closer, like we shared a secret.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “We’ll have plenty of time together now.”
Ethan’s hand tightened once at my waist.
A squeeze.
A warning or a promise, I wasn’t sure which.