“Or what, Amaya? You’ll kill me like you killed Gayan Peiris? Huh? Is that what you’d do?”

“Yes!” My voice ricocheted off the empty corridor. “I’ll fucking kill you before I let you do this. You hear me?”

Kaavi took a step back like I had slapped her.

“Well, there you go.”

I couldn’t stop shivering. This was wrong. Everything had come out wrong.

“Kaavi, I—”

“No need to explain. I guess I finally know how you feel about me. Look, this wedding is happening, regardless of who wants it to happen or not. But do yourself, and me, a favor, will you? Stay the fuck away from me. Stay the fuck away from my family. And stay the fuck away from my wedding.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and stalked down toward the beach.

I tried to steady myself, but I was shaking all over. I leaned against the wall and tried to take a deep breath. It barely worked. I felt my knees give away as I slid down to the floor.

How dare she? How dare she speak to me like that? How dare she say the cruel things she did? She knew how much it would hurt me. All this time I thought, deep down, that she’d still be my friend. That I couldn’t speak to her because she was busy. Because she was preoccupied with the wedding. Because I was a coward. Now I knew she just didn’t care. She had nothing to say to me. Of course she didn’t—what was there to talk about? As far as she was concerned she got her trophy man. Why would she need me?

Why did she even ask me to come here? Was it to rub it in my face that she had the life that I could never have? Why would she do this to me?

I tried another round of deep breathing.

If the ghost of Lady Lavinia was here tonight, I would surely have scared her away. That’s how angry I was.

I could hear footsteps echoing down the corridor. Thank goodness for the wooden floors. I didn’t want to be found like this—a collapsed, defeated lump, crying to myself in a deserted corner of a five-star hotel.

Standing up, I dug in my purse for a tissue and wiped my face.

I would walk out of here with my head held high.

I wouldn’t let Kaavindi Fonseka tear me down a second time.

Pushing my shoulders back, I walked to the lobby where I could sit down for a moment and call myself a taxi. I saw Mahesh’s driver hanging around near the front desk. I briefly wondered why he was there, again, when Mahesh was clearly not invited to the bridal shower, but I didn’t feel like making small talk. I kept my face turned away from him. That’s when I saw the wedding dress. It was still as ethereally beautiful as it had been at the Fonseka house. I couldn’t even bear to look at it.