Chapter 65

Celeste

“A party?” I replied, allowing my voice to quiver slightly with feigned surprise. “I haven’t even heard about any party.”

Jack fixed his eyes on me, those cold orbs searching for any signs of deceit.

“Good,” he retorted after a beat, settling back into his chair. “Because you shouldn’t be going to parties anyway. Especially not this one. It’s out of bounds for you.”

I rolled my eyes discreetly, turning my attention to the floor. There was no need to give Jack the satisfaction of getting under my skin.

“And now that you do know about it,” he continued, the sternness in his voice making me stiffen, “if I so much as see a glimpse of you there, I’m taking you straight home.”

I raised my brows in mock surprise, forcing a chuckle. “Jack, why would I want to go to a party? I have tons of homework to do. Seriously, I'm drowning in assignments. Besides,” I added, hoping to further throw him off, “I never enjoyed parties much anyway.”

For a moment, Jack seemed to be studying me. It felt as though he was trying to peer straight into my soul, searching for any hidden intentions.

Finally, he smirked. It wasn’t a friendly or playful smirk—it was the kind of smirk that could send shivers down your spine.

“Of course,” he said. “Parties aren’t the place for an unattractive, awkward girl like you.”

My heart thudded loudly in my chest. Jack had always been protective and overbearing, but it was rare for him to be outright cruel. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, the sting of his words far worse than any physical wound.

“Why do you have to say things like that?” I snapped, my voice sharper than intended. “Why do you feel the need to constantly belittle and mock me?”

Jack leaned back, his smirk now transforming into a smug grin. “I’m just telling the truth, Celeste. If you can’t handle that, it’s your problem.”

My throat tightened, the weight of his words making my eyes well up with tears. I tried to blink them back, refusing to let him see just how deeply he had cut.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I whispered, “You’re my brother, Jack. Why can’t you just be kind?”

Jack just shrugged, that cruel glint in his eyes unrelenting. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to prevent the sob that threatened to break free.

“Finish your dinner,” Jack growled, shooting me a warning glare. “Don’t be a crybaby.”

I swallowed my tears and did as I was told. But after dinner, as I washed the dishes, I couldn’t control the tears that threatened to spill.

All I could do was watch as the tears dripped off of my cheeks and into the sink, mixing with the soapy water.

…

I was seething as I made my way upstairs after dinner, the weight of Jack’s words threatening to choke me.

But this was no time to get emotional. Instead, I focused on the bigger picture: my plan with Sabrina and Fiona. The mere thought of Sabrina’s wicked grin made me grind my teeth, but this wasn’t about her; it was about Matt.

Once inside my room, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, taking a moment to collect my thoughts. I needed to be perfect in my execution tonight. It wasn’t just about fooling Matt—it was about proving to myself that I could stand up to the chaos that had invaded my life.

I opened my closet and eyed the clothes hanging inside. Choosing two outfits—a baggy, unassuming ensemble and a much more form-fitting and flattering one—I placed them side by side on my bed. The juxtaposition was almost comical.

I practiced changing from one outfit to the other, timing myself with my phone to ensure efficiency. Slipping out of my baggy clothes and into the dress, I discovered I could change in less than two minutes. Satisfied, I repeated the process several times to commit the sequence to muscle memory.

The night’s plans weighed heavy on my mind. Jack’s warning echoed in my ears, while the anticipation of meeting Matt made my heart race.

But underlying everything was an undeniable melancholy. If Matt didn’t care for me—just plain, unmasked Celeste—then this charade would have been for nothing.

While I was lost in thought, my phone buzzed, jolting me from my contemplations. The screen lit up with a message from Matt: “Hey, are you coming to the party tomorrow night? Would love to see you there.”

My heart did a weird somersault, and I found myself hesitating before typing a response. “Sure, sounds fun. I’ll meet you there.”

His reply was almost instantaneous: “Awesome! Can’t wait.”

Staring at the screen, I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips, but it faded as quickly as it had come. The reality of the situation was beginning to sink in. This could very well be the last time I saw Matt.

If he couldn’t see past ‘Rose’ to appreciate Celeste, then was he really worth the heartbreak?

The lump in my throat grew as I considered the possibility. But I quickly brushed those thoughts aside. I had to be strong. For myself.

I made a mental note of the necessary preparations. I would have to sneak out of the house, especially with Jack’s warning fresh in my mind. Plus, I needed a backup plan for switching between my outfits. Luckily, the party venue—the cabins—was way out in the woods with plenty of space to slip into the shadows, which meant I could swap outfits without raising suspicion.

I laid out the clothes for the night, arranging everything in order of need. Shoes, dress, accessories. And then the baggy outfit right on top. Perfect.

Then I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. Behind the determined gaze, I saw a flicker of sadness. If things didn’t work out tomorrow night, I’d have to confront a painful reality.

However, one thing was certain: I was not going to let Sabrina have the last laugh. And I certainly wasn’t going to let Jack dictate my life, either. I had Fiona on my side, and with her help, Jack would remain blissfully unaware of my presence at the party.

The evening wore on, and as I eventually crawled into bed that night, my anxiety grew. The prospect of heartbreak loomed larger than ever. Still, I reminded myself that this was necessary. I had to know where I stood with Matt, for my own sake.

As I made my final preparations, I tried to hold onto a shred of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, Matt would see me—Celeste, without the guise of ‘Rose’—and truly care. But I was ready for the alternative. There was a good chance that Matt wouldn’t care at all about Celeste; or, worst case scenario, he would outright reject me if I tried anything.

And if that was the case, then this night would indeed be a farewell. Not just to Matt, but to the confusing, heart-wrenching game that my life had become.

That night, I fell asleep with the prospect of heartbreak on my mind, looming on the horizon like night’s shadow. If this party didn’t work out, I would have to end things with Matt—for good.