Page 38 of Waiting for You

I made myself keep going. The disastrous camping trip, the war with the tent, the dinner we'd burned over the fire and eaten anyway. And then the night I'd laid out my whole business plan for the studio, talking too fast because I was sure he'd think it was foolish.

He hadn't. He'd just watched me, those dark eyes steady on my face, and when I finally ran out of breath he'd said, quietly, "You're going to be incredible. You already are."

He had believed in me before I believed in myself. And now he believed in someone else.

I thought about the closeness on the stone steps last night, everything he'd almost confessed and swallowed instead.

I lay in the dark and let every memory burn.

And then I dragged myself out of bed.

I washed the exhaustion off my face, put on a tailored outfit, and went down to the dining hall for breakfast.

Simon had hired a full culinary staff for the estate's breakfast service, and I caught the rich smell of coffee and bacon long before the heavy oak doors. When I pushed through, the bridal party had already gathered. Simon and Violet were tucked together at the far end of the long table, his hand resting near her coffee cup. Across from them sat Xavier, with the woman from last night beside him.

She wore an understated elegance. Her dark hair fell loose down her back, her posture relaxed, both hands cradling her ceramic mug. Her dark eyes swept the historic room with an unbothered curiosity.

I pulled out a chair and poured myself a black coffee.

Xavier glanced up the second I came in, his eyes tracking me before snapping away. His face gave up nothing.

"Morning," I said to the table.

"Morning, Sloane," Simon greeted.

The woman beside Xavier looked up and flashed a brilliant smile, her chin lifting, her eyes direct and warm.

Then Xavier set down his fork. "Sloane, this is Eliza."

He delivered it plainly, without softening it or tacking on a single qualifier. Eliza turned to each of us as we went around the table, and when the introductions reached my chair, she extended her hand across the wood.

"Sloane," I offered, bracing myself.

Her handshake was firm, her smile disarming. "You're stunning. And those tattoos are incredible. I'm obsessed with the linework."

"Thank you." I blinked. "If you're ever in the market for ink, I'm your girl. I run my own studio in the city."

Her eyes lit up. "Are you serious? I have a small piece already."

"Oh yeah?" I leaned forward. "What'd you get?"

She turned her left wrist over. A delicate dove sat on the inner wrist, placed where her eyes would catch it whenever she reached for something. "It's for my twin sister. She passed away when we were very young. I only know her face from old photographs. So I put her somewhere I'd always see her."

I stared at the tiny bird on her skin.

"That's beautiful," I murmured. And God help me, I meant it.

I cleared the lump in my throat. "Listen, I want to apologize for last night. Knocking on your suite door at that hour was uncalled for. I had way too much champagne at the reception and lost track of the floor plan."

She waved it off. "Please, don't apologize. It was a huge wedding party. I didn't think anything of it."

"Wait, what happened last night?" Violet cut in, her radar pinging.

She stared at me, leaning forward, her brows arched in silent demand.

"I knocked on the wrong door," I recited. "I thought it was your suite. Like I said, too much champagne."

Violet narrowed her eyes. She turned to study Xavier, then snapped her gaze back to me.