Some lives were remembered from beginning to end.
Mine had sections washed pale.
I still owned the book.
Reid finished adjusting my cuffs.
“You look beautiful.”
I glanced at the mirror.
My suit was deep navy rather than charcoal, cut to accommodate the slight difference in my right hip. The tailor had added an invisible stretch panel so sitting through dinner would not become punishment. My white shirt fit close at the shoulders. The ring Reid had given me two years ago rested on my left ring finger, its blue enamel catching light whenever I moved.
A faint scar remained near my temple.
I no longer styled my hair to hide it.
“Beautiful?” I asked.
“Dangerously.”
“That’s better.”
He kissed me.
The first touch was intended to be brief.
It wasn’t.
His hands slid around my waist. Mine moved beneath his jacket and over the warm strength of his back. His mouth opened against mine, and for several seconds the wedding, the guests, and the carefully written schedule ceased to exist.
A knock struck the bedroom door.
“Absolutely not,” Marian called from the hallway. “We are nine minutes behind because neither of you understands the phrase final fitting.”
Reid’s mouth remained against mine.
“Go away.”
“I have legal authority to enter.”
“You do not.”
“I have the apartment key.”
That was unfortunately true.
I laughed and drew back.
Reid’s eyes had darkened.
“You started that.”
“I plan to finish it later.”
His grip tightened once.
“Promise?”
