I watch the realization hit him like a splash of ice water, draining the anger straight out of his posture. His shoulders slump, and he shakes his head.
“What I said had nothing to do with you, Othello. You are the one good thing that came out of this mess.”
Othello comes closer. I can see the relief washing over him, but his eyes still don’t meet mine. "I'm sorry. I...damn, I’m so sorry."
I shake my head.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not. I panicked and let my insecurities doubt you.” His gaze finally finds mine, his dark brown eyes begging for forgiveness. “You gave me no reason to think that about you, and I did anyway. That wasn't fair."
Othello steps closer, his large hands coming up to cup my face just as a woman walks past, giving us an odd look. But his focus is on me and nothing else.
“I don’t want you to leave.” He tells me, his thumbs sweeping across my cheekbones.
“I don’t want to be here.”
“So that’s it?” he asks quietly. “The lie falls apart, and suddenly there's no reason to stay?”
A shiver shoots straight down my spine.
“Othello…” I breathe, my eyes dropping to his lips before snapping back to his dark gaze. The frustration I felt a second ago completely evaporates, replaced by a sudden, dizzying heat.
“I’m not upset with you,” I tell him. My voice is barely above a whisper. “Today has just been a very bad day for me.”
His mouth moves to my face and brushes a kiss over a fallen tear. His lips linger against my skin until my eyes fall shut. My heart is beating like mad, thumping so hard against my ribcage I’m certain he can feel it too.
“Then let me have the bad days with you,” he murmurs.
I stare into his eyes, astonished, and wondering who the hell this man is. Where did he come from? Who sent him? Why was he so good to me?
Othello wraps me in a warm embrace, and I sink into him like an exhale. He kisses me right there in the hallway, and I kiss him back with everything I have in me. I never want this moment to end.
There is no more pretending. The rules are out the window, and the illusion has shattered. I am completely, beautifully trapped in the truth of him.
42
oh, shit
OTHELLO
It’sGavin and Carina’s wedding day, and the first thing I think when I see Gavin come out in his suit is how happy my aunt would be in this exact moment. The heavy absence of her in this room is a physical ache, but looking at my cousin, I can still see her reflection in his eyes.
Gavin stands tall in the middle of the groom’s suite. The suit looks tailored for him, and I mean it literally is, but it fits his character and everything he stands for. Honorable. Distinguished, yet charismatic.
“You lookin’ good, G,” I say and pull him into a quick dap.
“Thanks, bro.”
He adjusts the collar of his lightweight suit jacket. It’s custom-made from a premium, crisp ivory linen blend. He’s left the top two buttons of his breathable white cotton shirt undone, ditching the tie entirely for a look that is relaxed yet completely sophisticated.
It’s a deliberate step up from the rest of us. Me, James, Vernon, and Todd are wearing the same cotton shirt under tailored vests, our sleeves rolled up to our elbows.
“You ready for this?” I ask Gavin.
James approaches, giving Gavin’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Listen, Gav, if things go sideways, I’ll hotwire a speedboat and get you outta here.”
Gavin draws in a breath, clearly not amused. I give James a “what the hell” look, and he shrugs and walks off back to the bar with Todd and Vernon.
