Astra Valentina stood at the edge of the room, a vision in liquid gold. The dress clung to her like a second skin, every seam catching the light as if spun from the medals she'd won. She smiled—perfect, practiced, untouchable—while a photographer crouched low to capture her from the perfect angle.

She was looking at the entrance.

Because she'd heard his laugh before she'd seen him. That low, familiar chuckle that used to come from beside her in bed, from across their kitchen, from the stands at her competitions with a sign that said MY GIRL IS GOLD.

Jack Hughes walked in with his arm around Ellie Vance—the actress, the new girlfriend, the woman whose face adorned every magazine cover Astra had avoided for a year.

He was laughing at something Ellie said. He was wearing a deep navy suit that hugged his shoulders. He looked older. His hair was a little longer. And when his eyes swept the room, searching for his table, they found Astra.

The laugh died in his throat.