"Of course. Let's get some fresh air," Carmen said, her voice a soothing balm against the rising tension within me.
We navigated our way through the sea of faces, the grand ballroom buzzing with laughter and clinking glasses. The opulence of the room, with its crystal chandeliers and gilded mirrors, felt suffocating. I could feel the weight of countless eyes on us, scrutinizing, judging. The air was thick with perfume and the murmur of gossip.
Reaching the large French doors, Carmen pushed them open, and we stepped onto the terrace. The cool night air greeted us like an old friend, instantly easing the oppressive heat from inside.
The sounds of the gala dulled to a distant hum, replaced by the serene rustling of leaves and the faint chirping of crickets.
I inhaled deeply, savoring the crispness, the scent of blooming night flowers mingling with the fresh scent of grass.