Chapter 8: Glass

Keir took Richard's wrist and lifted it off my hand.

He did it without force, and Richard let him.

"You're upsetting a guest," Keir said, in a voice meant to carry only to the three of us.

"I only wanted to say..." Richard began.

"You've said enough."

Richard looked at me once more, and what I saw on his face was not anger.

It was fear.

Then he sat down, and the whole room let him.

Keir walked me out through the ballroom, close at my shoulder, not touching me.

Nobody stopped us.

At the doors Finn caught up, already pulling out his phone.

"I'll handle the photographers," he said. "Take her home."

"You don't need to handle..."

"Millicent." He grinned. "I've been waiting my whole career for a reason to wave at a camera."

In the car I stared out the window until the lights of the city thinned.

Keir drove with both hands on the wheel.

"You didn't wait until the wedding," he said.

"I waited eight days."

"For the record, that was good."

"Which part?"

"The part where you stopped talking."

I laughed before I could stop it.

It turned into something that hurt, and I put my hand over my mouth.

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