But the wall Jake's built between us feels more permanent than temporary, like a fortress I don't have the key to breach. The guilt of hurting him mingles with frustration. How do you fix something when the other person won't even look at you?

Camilla reaches over and squeezes my hand, her touch grounding. "Let's just have some drama-free fun today, okay?"

I nod, grateful for her optimism even as unease lingers beneath my skin. Taking a deep breath, I try to focus on the day ahead and hopefully no more surprises.

The buzz of the polo grounds snaps me back to reality. Summer-warmed air carries the mingled scents of freshly cut grass and expensive perfume, while excitement ripples through the crowd like electricity. The grounds stretch out before us like a scene from another world—pristine white tents gleaming under the golden afternoon sun, their peaks reaching toward a cloudless sky.

Luxury cars line up like soldiers on parade—Rolls-Royces, Aston Martins, and Bentleys reflecting the day's opulence in their polished surfaces. Men in tailored linen suits and women in flowing designer dresses drift across the manicured grass, champagne flutes catching the light like stars.

"God, it's like a Ralph Lauren catalog exploded in here," Camilla mutters, her gaze sweeping the scene with amused disdain.

My attention catches on Mia, already warming up on her horse. She's grace personified, her focus unshakable as she guides her mount through practice movements. The sight of her so in her element, so purely herself, brings a smile to my face. Whatever today holds, Mia deserves this moment to shine.

As we weave through the buzzing crowd, I spot Ollie standing off to the side, arms crossed, and attention fixed on Mia like she's gravity itself. There's a softness in his expression I rarely see anymore—a glimpse of the brother I knew before grief hardened his edges.

"I'll catch up with you later," I tell Camilla and Marcus, already moving toward him.

"Sure, we'll be by the bar trying to snatch the overpriced champagne," Camilla says with a wave before turning back to Marcus.

I make my way to Ollie, nudging his arm when I reach him. "Hey, Ol."

He glances down, his face breaking into that easy grin that makes him look so much like Dad.

"Well shit, you actually scrub up all right, Len."

"Shut up," I reply with another playful nudge. "Where's Jake?" I scan the crowd despite knowing it's probably futile.

"He decided to bail," Ollie replies, his tone casual but laden with unspoken concern. "I don't think crowds are his thing right now after, well, everything."