Chapter 11 - A TABLE FOR TWO
Opening night of The Silver Star was not a gala.
There were no massive projector screens. There were no microphones or speeches.
There were just people. Real people, laughing, eating, and enjoying the warmth of a room built on truth.
I walked through the dining room, checking on tables, pouring wine, smiling until my cheeks hurt.
The food was flawless. Marcus had outdone himself. The roasted chicken with rosemary was exactly how my mother used to make it.
As the night wound down and the last guests filtered out, I found myself standing near the back corner booth.
Claire was asleep in the booth, her head resting on her backpack, her orchestra sheet music scattered across the table.
I smiled, pulling my sweater off and draping it over her shoulders. The turquoise bracelet gleamed on her wrist.
I walked over to the bar and poured a single glass of ginger ale.
I picked up the remaining crystal champagne glass. The one that hadn't been broken.
I held it up to the warm ambient light.
If your heart is going to break, at least hold something beautiful while it happens.
May you like
My heart had broken. But it had healed into something infinitely stronger.
I took a sip, the sweet ginger ale burning pleasantly in my throat.
