"I know."
"Then don't give him one. Dance with me. Have fun. Show him you don't care."
She pulls me toward the makeshift dance floor, and I let her. Let the music and movement distract me from the burning awareness of Ethan's presence.
We dance. We laugh. We're having actual fun.
Until a hand touches my waist.
"Mind if I cut in?"
I freeze. Know that voice.
Ethan stands there, smiling like this is perfectly normal. Like we're friends who dance at parties.
"Actually, I do mind?—"
"Just one dance. For old times' sake."
"We never danced."
"Exactly. Seems like we should fix that."
Isla looks between us, uncertain. "Ivy?"
I could make a scene. Could tell him to fuck off loudly enough that everyone hears. Could run away and prove that he still has power over me.
Or I could show him I'm not afraid.
"Fine. One dance."
Sebastian walks over to Isla, who had to meet us here as he had a few things to do. She looks up at him, but straight back to me, making sure I’m okay. Sebastian whispers something in her ear, and she reluctantly steps back, and Ethan's hand settles on my waist with a familiarity that makes my skin burn.
"See? That wasn't so hard."
"What do you want, Ethan?"
"To dance. That's allowed, isn't it?"
We move to the music, a slower song now, intimate in a way that makes this torture.
"You look good," he says. "Different. Confident."
"Thanks. I worked hard to get over you."
"Did you? Get over me?"
"Completely."
"Liar." His hand tightens on my waist. "You're tense. Your pulse is racing. You're breathing too fast. Those aren't signs of indifference."
"Those are signs of anger."
"Or something else." He leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. "You can hate me all you want, but you're not indifferent and neither am I."
"What do you want me to say? That I still think about it? That I wake up some nights still feeling that humiliation?" I pull back to look at him. "Fine. You win. It affected me. Happy?"
Something flickers across his face. "No. I'm not happy."