My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 64

Chapter 64: Chapter 64 POWDER OVER A BRUISE

CELESTE’S POV

Kieran’s words echoed in my mind even after he walked away, slamming the terrace door behind him.

‘You humiliated yourself tonight.’

I stood there for a long moment, stunned, the cold air licking at my bare shoulders. The applause from inside had faded, replaced by a low hum of music and chatter.

My special night was still unfolding, and here I was, left out in the cold.

Kieran had never spoken to me like that before, and the sting was worse because I never expected it.

I thought he’d stand beside me tonight, like he always used to—like he promised to.

And yet...

He looked at me like I was the problem. Like I’d committed some kind of grave sin for wanting to have a perfect night to celebrate our love.

How dare he insinuate that I don’t care about him?

If he didn’t like his outfit or my decorations, then he should have said something. Wasn’t that what couples did?

They communicated and they faced issues together.

I took a deep breath, forcing the flash of anger and irritation to subside.

Kieran had spent the last ten years married to a snake he didn’t love; I shouldn’t blame him if he didn’t know how to communicate.

I’d fix it. I wouldn’t let the damage Sera had done to him ruin my happiness. I was done letting her win.

So I gathered my breath once more, and then opened the terrace door and stepped inside. I found Kieran near the bar, his hand wrapped around a tumbler of whiskey.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I threw him a lavish party filled with the elite of the elite, and he chose to sulk at the bar?

But I slapped on a smile and headed to him, slipping into character. I could still salvage tonight. All was not lost.

He didn’t look at me as I approached, didn’t acknowledge me at all.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, voice barely audible beneath the music.

He didn’t answer. But he didn’t walk away either.

I stepped closer, brushing my fingers against the fabric of his sleeve. “You’re right, baby. I went too far.”

He finally looked at me, brows raised.

“I just...I’ve been trying so hard.” My voice cracked, perfectly timed. “This is the first big thing I’ve put together since I came back. I wanted it to be perfect. For us.”

Kieran looked away, jaw tense.

“I haven’t been sleeping,” I said softly. “I’ve barely been eating. I’ve been so obsessed with making sure everything comes out perfect, and I guess I got a little carried away.”

His prolonged silence gave me space to add more.

“I didn’t know the full details about the incident with the Omega, I swear. The maids must’ve misunderstood my desire for perfection and thought I wanted things stricter than I actually did. It’s not what I intended.”

Kieran ran a hand down his face, sighing, and that small flicker of emotion—that weariness—was all I needed.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, placing my hand gently on his arm. “And about Sera...” Oh, this one would be hard. “This wasn’t about hurting anyone. It was about healing. I guess I just... went about it the wrong way.”

Kieran looked at me then, and there it was—guilt lingering in the corners of his eyes. He remembered that I wasn’t cruel—I was sweet, lovely Celeste.

I was the victim in all this. I didn’t deserve his ire.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he murmured, his voice low.

I blinked rapidly, letting my expression twist into wounded gratitude. “I snapped at you, too, and I’m sorry.”

I moved closer, suppressing a smirk when I saw a cameraman take a picture out of the corner of my eye.

“I’m just trying, Kieran. That’s all I’ve ever wanted—to make things right.”

He nodded, the tension in his shoulders softening. “I’m sorry, too. And I appreciate what you tried to do tonight.”

I smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. For a moment, it felt like the rift between us had been patched over.

Not healed, no. But masked. Smoothed. Like powder over a bruise.

We stood together in silence, side by side, and when someone called our names from across the ballroom, he reached for my hand without thinking.

And I smiled. Not from joy—but from victory.

SERAPHINA’S POV

Only when we reached the hallway outside the ballroom did the pressure of Lucian’s hands on me dissipate.

I sagged against the cool wall, the pounding in my ears slowly quieting. Lucian stood beside me, arms crossed, face unreadable as he glanced at me sideways.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion.

He didn’t reply at first, just reached into his coat and handed me a folded handkerchief. “Hey, I did promise to keep you from throwing a punch, and it looked like it was coming.”

I laughed breathlessly, taking the handkerchief. “I’m sure her media crew would have loved that.”

“You don’t owe them a performance. Let them choke on their illusions.”

I let out a shaky breath, the burn behind my eyes spilling over.

Lucian didn’t try to comfort me with platitudes. He didn’t ask if I was okay or tell me to pull myself together.

He just stood there, patient and unwavering, offering comfort in his silence as muffled music and chatter floated through the closed doors.

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