Sienna.

“Do not come back to the table.”

That is what I tell Eliot when I find him in the coat room with a blonde on her knees and his ring still on his finger. My ring. The one he put there in front of my father six months ago.

He starts the speech. I walk out before the first excuse lands.

The gala keeps glittering upstairs. I go down. Hotel bar. Dark. Loud enough to drown a family. I order something that burns and sit like my life did not just split open.

“You look like you want to do something stupid.”

The voice is low. Expensive. I look...