Rachel laughed lightly, the sound twinkling and false. Oh, you know, still doing the single dad thing. It must be exhausting, working all those hours and raising Lily on your own. I don't know how you manage. She reached out and touched his arm in a gesture that was meant to look sympathetic, but felt like a brand.
Some people just aren't meant to find someone else, and that's okay, Nathan. Really. There's nothing wrong with being alone. Before Nathan could respond, Brandon appeared at Rachel's side, sliding an arm around her waist with the easy confidence of a man who had never doubted his place in the world. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of tan that came from weekend golf games and Caribbean vacations.
His handshake, when he offered it to Nathan, was firm to the point of aggression. The ex-husband, Brandon said. And though his tone was friendly, there was something underneath it. A smugness, a superiority that he didn't bother to hide. Rachel's told me a lot about you.
Thanks for coming, man. I know it can't be easy. Nathan felt his jaw tighten. Congratulations on the wedding. Thanks.
We're pretty happy. Brandon glanced around the room, taking in the grandeur of the celebration he had funded. Rachel deserves all of this, you know. She spent too many years settling for less. I'm just glad I could give her the life she always wanted.
The words landed like punches, each one precise and devastating. Nathan understood what Brandon was really saying. You couldn't do this. You weren't enough. She upgraded, and now everyone can see exactly how far she's risen.
He wanted to respond, to defend himself, to point out that love wasn't measured in square footage or stock portfolios, but Lily was standing right there, chocolate on her fingers, looking up at the adults with confusion in her eyes. So, Nathan swallowed his pride and nodded once, his face carefully blank. "I hope you're both very happy," he said, and the words tasted like ash in his mouth. Rachel and Brandon drifted away, absorbed back into the crowd of well-wishers and sycophants, and Nathan was left standing by the dessert table with his daughter and the shattered remains of his dignity. He thought that was the worst of it.
He was wrong. The whispers started slowly, spreading through the ballroom like ripples in a pond. Nathan caught fragments as he moved through the crowd. Pitying glances, raised eyebrows, conversations that stopped abruptly when he walked by. A woman in a red dress looked at him with something close to sympathy and murmured to her companion, "That's the ex-husband?