Shayla
I can feel the hush that ripples through the crowd the moment Chris and I step into the venue. This charity gala always draws a crowd of high society and paparazzi hoping for a spectacle. I do my best to keep my back straight, gliding across the tiled floor in my navy-blue gown. The satin catches the glimmer from the chandeliers above, and I'm acutely aware of how many eyes are on us. But I tell myself to stay calm. Tonight, we're here to show unity—and, hopefully, avoid letting Caroline throw us off-balance.
Chris stands beside me in a navy tux, the pocket square a perfect match to my dress. We spent a good half hour deciding on these coordinating outfits, wanting to present a united front without looking too contrived. He offers me a slight smile and whispers, "Ready?" in that low voice that always sets my nerves at ease and on fire at the same time. I give him a quick nod, and we move forward to greet Lawrence.