Miranda inhaled deeply before opening the terrace doors and stepping back into the house. Forcing a smile onto her face, she navigated through the crowd, deliberately avoiding Connor's direction.
A surge of protective anger coursed through her veins. She understood Noelle's desire to inflict pain on him for what he'd done to Collins.
"There you are," Nolan said, appearing beside her almost instantly, his forehead creased with worry. "Got your message. Is Collins alright?"
"Just some pregnancy-related nausea," Miranda replied, surprised at how naturally the fabrication flowed. "Noelle took her home so she could rest properly."
"Should we leave too? Check on her? Everyone would understand your concern for your sister. We can—"
"No need," Miranda cut in quickly. "She insisted we stay. Said she'd never forgive herself for disrupting our celebration."
Nolan's eyes searched her face, and Miranda maintained steady eye contact. They had promised each other no more secrets.
