Emily Blair stood on the stage, seeing everything with unsettling clarity.

A sea of pink signs-each emblazoned with Isabella Austin's name-rose high above the crowd, their color casting a rosy glow across the auditorium. The cheers were deafening.

"Isabella Austin! Isabella Austin!"

It was obvious that many in the audience had come just for Isabella, though a handful were there for both Isabella and Andrew Lane.

But the moment Emily stepped up to the microphone, those chants abruptly vanished. Instead, a low, venomous muttering swept through the front rows.

"Why is it her? What bad luck."

“Can she just get off the stage? I don't want someone like that hosting Isabella's show. She's such an eyesore."

"Homewrecker."

Some didn't even bother to whisper, their words ringing out for all to hear.

The other hosts stole embarrassed glances at Emily, unsure how to react. But Emily's face remained perfectly composed as she began the ceremony.

"Welcome, everyone, to..."

Hours dragged by. Isabella and Andrew's piano duet was the grand finale, and Emily's legs were numb by the time she finally stepped forward, spotlight warming her face, to announce their names.

“For our final performance, please join me in welcoming our esteemed alumni, Mr. Lane and Ms. Austin, who will be performing a four-hand piano duet—'Love's Serenade.' Let's give them a warm round of applause!"

Before she could even finish, the roar of Isabella's fans drowned her out.

"Isabella Austin! Isabella Austin!"

Andrew's name occasionally slipped in, but it was clear who the real star was.

Emily followed the other hosts offstage, brushing past Andrew Lane and Isabella Austin without making eye contact. Head down, she kept walking. Only when she stopped and glanced back did she notice something odd: Andrew Lane was standing offstage in the wings. Only Isabella had walked onto the stage.

She frowned. "Why isn't Andrew Lane going up?"

The other hosts and the faculty member in charge of the event looked just as confused. The teacher hurried over, looking nervous.

“Mr. Lane, is something wrong? Aren't you supposed to perform now?"

Emily stared at Andrew's back, not daring to blink.

With one hand in his pocket, Andrew turned slightly, his voice cool and detached. "This is her piece. Let her play it alone. There's no reason for me to share in her applause."

After a moment, realization dawned on the teacher's face.

"So you want Ms. Austin to have the stage to herself, to receive all the honor for her own composition."

To let Isabella bask in the spotlight alone, to stand quietly in the background as her supporter. What a gesture that was.

Andrew said nothing more, but didn't contradict the teacher's assumption.

The teacher heaved a sigh. "After all these years, Mr. Lane, your relationship with Ms. Austin is still so strong. I used to think you two wouldn't last."

He chuckled self-mockingly. "Shows what I know. I hope you two have a long and happy life together. Forgive my boldness, but if you and Ms. Austin ever get married, could I have the honor of being invited to your wedding?"

Emily turned away, walking a few steps into the dim corridor backstage.

When she looked back, Andrew was speaking, but his words were lost amid the clatter. She could only read his lips—he seemed to be agreeing.

Agreeing to invite the teacher to his wedding with Isabella.

Emily's chest tightened. She lowered her head, struggling to catch her breath.

She'd thought she was numb to the pain.

But life had a way of reminding her, brutally, that she wasn't. She still couldn't bear to see Andrew and Isabella happy together. Couldn't stand the sight of their harmony. Couldn't stomach the thought of them living happily ever after-raising that only son who, in another life, had trampled her own daughter's dreams.

She felt like a rat scurrying through the gutter-unseen, despised, gnawed by jealousy, spitefully wishing that cracks would appear in their perfect love.