Chapter 3 - The Illusions of Grandeur
Which brings us back to the Holiday Inn ballroom.
I had been standing near the buffet for twenty minutes when Ryan and Melissa finally spotted me.
They approached me like a pair of predators who believed they were still at the top of the food chain. Ryan wore a suit that was slightly too tight, his hairline receding, the false charm still plastered across his face. Melissa clung to his arm, wearing a flashy cocktail dress that screamed of insecurity.
They had spent seven years spinning a narrative that I was the tragic, abandoned woman, and they were the star-crossed lovers.
"Well, well," Ryan said loudly, ensuring the small crowd of alumni around us turned to listen. "Claire. I’m surprised you showed up."
"Hello, Ryan. Melissa," I said smoothly, taking a sip of my sparkling water.
Melissa gave me a pitying smile. "You look... exactly the same, Claire. I guess some things never change. Are you here alone? Still single?"
"I'm doing perfectly fine," I replied, refusing to offer them the biography they were fishing for.
May you like
Ryan let out a harsh, arrogant laugh. He stepped closer, emboldened by my silence, assuming my calmness was actually cowardice. He raised his hand, pointing a finger directly at my face to emphasize his dominance in front of our old classmates.
"Still playing the quiet martyr, I see," Ryan mocked, his voice echoing over the music. "Honestly, Claire, you should thank us. If we hadn't left, you'd still be organizing seating charts for a life you were too boring to actually live."
