I wanted to go after him, to demand a real explanation, but my feet wouldn't move. I stumbled through the crowd, bumping into one person after another. When I finally pushed through, I found Christopher in a far corner.
He'd always had a sharp temper, but now every edge was filed down. He lay with his head in a young woman's lap, almost playful, like a different person. The party around them was a haze of smoke and noise, but she stood apart from all of it. A white dress, dark hair spilling down her back. There was no other word for it: pure. She trailed a strand of hair along the side of Christopher's face, teasing him.
"Cut it out," he murmured, voice warm. "Let me sleep a bit."
"That person just now… who was she? Is she your wife?"
Her voice matched her face. Sweet. Gentle.
"No. Nobody important."
Christopher pressed his hand to the back of her head and tilted his chin up to kiss her.
Any normal person would have walked away.
I never had that kind of sense.
"Christopher."
He didn't even glance at me. The girl, though, flinched hard enough to shake. I took two steps forward. Maybe my stare was too sharp. She shot to her feet, face drained of color, and ducked behind the couch.