5. Caught in the Spotlight
Caught in the Spotlight
Sarah
The flash of cameras hits Sarah like a wave as soon as the limo door swings open.
"Just breathe," he murmurs. "Ive got you."
Earlier that evening...
Sarah stood in the hallway outside the penthouse bathroom, smoothing down the satin of her emerald dress for the hundredth time. Piper twirled in her princess nightgown, a sheet of sparkly stickers in hand.
"You look like a mermaid queen," Piper said reverently.
Sarah smiled, heart thumping. "Thank you, Your Royal Highness."
The door opened behind her. Evan stepped out of his room and stopped mid-step.
His gaze swept over her, slow and reverent.
"Damn," he breathed.
Her cheeks flushed instantly. "Try not to drool on the shoes."
He chuckled, but the way he looked at herit wasnt part of the act. It was something else. Something real.
"Remind me again why were doing this?" she asked, half-joking, half-desperate.
He didnt miss a beat. "Because the world needs to see what I see."
And just like that, she was breathless.
She lets him guide her forward, their hands clasped like theyve done this a hundred times. His grip is steady, warm, and way too reassuring for someone shes supposed to be fake-engaged to. But she follows his lead, smiling tight as they step into the glare.
The charity gala is a sensory overload. Crystal chandeliers glitter overhead like a galaxy of stars.
Gold accents shimmer off every surface. It smells like champagne, anxiety, and too much perfume.
Sarah keeps her posture straight, her chin up, the smile on her face glued in place as flashes pop like fireworks.
"Sarah, Mitchell, correct? Tell us how you two met!"
"Evan, will there be a wedding date announced tonight?"
He squeezes her hand. "Keep walking."
Inside the ballroom, the noise fades into soft music and clinking glasses. Sarah exhales slowly. Her heels click against the marble floor as they walk deeper into the chaos, dressed in glamour.
She barely recognizes herself in the mirror over the bar. Her dark green dress hugs her curves in ways shed never risk for a hospital shift. Her hair is pinned up with jeweled clips, lipstick bold. Not her. Not really.
But Evan looks at her like hes seeing something real.
"You clean up okay, sunshine," he murmurs at her side, a teasing glint in his eyes.
She smirks. "Try not to look so shocked."
They circulate, and Sarah plays her role. She smiles, laughs at Evans sarcastic asides, compliments overly botoxed socialites on their gowns, and finds her rhythm.
Until theyre stopped by a sharp-eyed journalist with a voice like velvet-wrapped steel.
"Sarah, lovely to meet you. Ive followed Evans career for years," the woman purrs. "Tell me how does it feels knowing the man youre engaged to once smashed a guitar over his managers car hood during a tantrum in Milan?"
Sarahs breath catches.
Evan interjects smoothly. "That was actually a rental car."
The reporters smile widens. Sarah forces a laugh.
Later, in the powder room, tucked away behind the main hall, she overhears two women.
"...a good act, but lets be honest. Evan Stone settling down? Please. Hell be back in rehab by Christmas."
"Or jail. Remember the drummer incident in Ibiza?"
They laugh, vicious and brittle.
Sarah freezes in the stall, her pulse thudding in her ears.
When she steps out, they barely pause.
"Oh," one says, eyes sweeping over her. "Didnt realize you were here."
Sarah doesnt respond. She meets their gaze, chin lifted, and walks out with her spine straight and hands trembling.
Outside, she slips through the balcony doors. Cool air rushes over her skin, and she finally breathes.
The city glows beyond the marble railing, quiet and unreachable. She leans against it, the night pressing in.
"You okay?" Evans voice cuts through the silence behind her.
She doesnt turn. "Just needed a minute."
"I figured."
He steps beside her, not touching, just close. "You shouldnt let them get in your head."
She finally meets his eyes. "Then maybe you should stop giving them so much ammo."
The words are sharper than she means. He flinches. She sighs.
"Im sorry. Its just... Its a lot."
"I know."
"And this, this thing between us" she gestures vaguely, "it feels like walking on a tightrope in heels."
He studies her. "Youre better at it than you think."
Her laugh is brittle. "Thats what scares me."
Back in the ballroom, Evans bandmates crowd around him.
"Its time, man. The industry wants you back. Youve got buzz. Lets ride it. Europe. Asia. A reunion tour."
Evans jaw flexes. "Its not that simple."
"Whats complicated? Your fiance and the kid can come along. Itll be great PR."
Sarah steps up beside him, plastering on her smile. "Hey. Everything okay?"
One of the bandmates eyes her. "Youre really going to keep this up, huh?"
Evan bristles. "Watch it."
Another guy chuckles. "Soft, Stone. Didnt think you had it in you."
Sarah feels the heat rise in her face. Shes not sure if its embarrassment or something else. Hurt.
The rest of the night blurs in a haze of polite conversation and fake laughter. Sarah finds herself smiling at things she doesnt hear, nodding at things she doesnt understand. Her thoughts spiral.
What happens if Evan says yes?
What happens if he leaves?
Worse, what happens if he asks her to go with him?
On the way home, silence stretches between them in the backseat of the limo. Piper fell asleep hours ago with Sarahs mother, safe at the penthouse. The only sound now is the quiet hum of tires on pavement.
Evan finally breaks the silence. "You okay?"
Sarah turns her head slowly. "No. Not really."
He looks at her, brows drawn. "Because of what you heard?"
"Because this isnt my life," she says softly. "I dont know who I am here. With you. With all this. And Im not sure I ever will."
Evan reaches for her hand, then stops.
The silence that follows is louder than any paparazzi flash.
When they arrive back at the penthouse, Sarah checks her phone. A message notification flashes on the lock screen.
Unknown number: Thought this might interest you.
Attached is a blurry photo of her and Evan from the gala, except its been doctored. The angle makes it look like Evan is kissing another woman in the background while holding Sarahs hand.
Below it: "You sure you know who youre pretending to love?"
Sarah stares at it, blood cold. Her hand trembles slightly, phone slick in her grip, and a tight knot forms in her chest. She wonders not for the first time if shes in too deep.
Her fingers hover over the screen.
Delete it? Pretend she never saw it? Or forward it to Evan, demanding an explanation for something she knows isnt real but suddenly cant stop doubting?
She doesnt do any of those things. Her thumb hovers above the screen, frozen. A dozen thoughts chase each other through her head, none of them loud enough to move her. Not yet.
Instead, she tucks the phone in her clutch just as a soft knock lands on her bedroom door.
"Hey," Evan says, voice low. "I was just checking... did you need anything?"
Sarah turns toward him. Her hearts still racing, the fake photo burned into her mind.
"No," she says. "Im fine. Just tired."
He doesnt move. "Right. Okay. Good night."
"Good night."
She watches the door close gently behind him, then opens her clutch and looks at the photo again.
Still there, still twisted whispering doubts that coil tighter around her heart with every breath.
She doesnt sleep.
Not right away.
Hours later, just as she finally starts to drift, a small voice stirs her.
"Sarah?"
Piper stands in the doorway, blanket in one hand, stuffed dinosaur in the other.
"I had a bad dream. You were gone."
Sarah opens her arms, guilt curling low in her stomach. "Come here, baby. Im not going anywhere." For Piper, she could still be steady even when everything inside her felt like it was coming undone.
Piper climbs into bed beside her, curling close. Sarah presses a kiss to her curls, heart aching.
She holds her close through the dark, even as her own dreams fray like threads in a storm, tugged loose by the wind of everything she cant control.