I did not approach them afterward. I could not know whether the stories were accurate, and I had no desire to become the recipient of a weekly report on my former fiancee's disappointments. But the details stayed with me because they contrasted so sharply with the polished image Liam was presenting across the room. The man who supposedly took risks for a living appeared to be relying on somebody else's money to sustain the appearance of success.
Near the end of the evening, Sarah passed close enough to speak. "Alex," she said, sounding surprised, although she had been looking toward me for much of the night.
"Hi, Sarah."
She glanced at my shirt and then at the people behind me. "You look good," she said. "Have you been working out?"
"A little. Hope you're doing well."
The words were polite and deliberately unremarkable. She seemed to wait for more, as if a compliment might reopen the kind of conversation we used to have. When I did not offer one, her smile tightened. "Things have been busy," she said. "Lots happening with work and everything."
"I hope it goes well," I answered.
Liam approached before either of us could say more. Sarah introduced us, and he shook my hand with an overly firm grip. "Alex, right? I've heard about you," he said. His expression suggested he expected the introduction to be uncomfortable and enjoyed that possibility.
"Nice to meet you," I said, because I wanted to end the conversation rather than make it meaningful.
He began telling me about a venture he was launching and asked what I did for work. I told him I led a software engineering team. He smiled politely and said technology was a good industry as long as you did not get stuck trading time for a paycheck. I told him I liked the work and was fortunate to have a team I respected.
"Of course," he said. "Security matters to some people. Nothing wrong with that."
The phrase sounded familiar enough that I wondered whether Sarah had borrowed it from him or the other way around. I felt a sudden desire to explain my job, my projects, and the things I had accomplished without either of them. Then I realized I was about to audition for the approval of two people whose judgment no longer had any claim on me. I excused myself and went to congratulate Jenna again before leaving.
On the drive home I stopped at a gas station for water. I sat in the parking lot for a few minutes, looking at the quiet road beyond the pumps. My hands were steady, but I felt tired in a way that surprised me. Seeing Sarah had not ruined the evening, and Liam had not intimidated me, yet the whole encounter had demanded more emotional effort than I wanted to admit.
When I got home, I took off my shoes, put the unopened water in the refrigerator, and went to bed. I did not check their social media accounts, and I did not send Mark a message asking what people had said after I left. The party had shown me enough. Whatever Sarah had chosen, I was no longer living inside the consequences of that choice every day.