DEMETRIA

“Who is he, Wildfire?” Marion asked again.

I glanced between Marion and Mark, my pulse thrumming, unsure what to say.

“That’s Mark,” I finally said, my voice steady but low. “My ex-fiancé.”

Marion’s jaw flexed. “I see.”

“Can we go? Please?” I whispered, stealing one last glance at Mark.

What's he even doing here?

“Alright. Let’s go.”

As we found our seats, the lights dimmed, and the red velvet curtains rippled open. I tried to focus on the screen, but ...