Page 43 of Don’t Forget Me

“I’m overjoyed that you came because otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you that you look beautiful tonight,” he said. I smiled and lowered my gaze to the white dress I’d been wearing, blood rushing to my cheeks.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Van Dorren,” I muttered under my breath. He never did anyway. If only I could truly express my admiration for him.

Loud chatter began to spill through the kitchen. Several servers began to pass between us with silver trays and dishes being balanced within their grasp.

“Coming through!”

“Hot plate coming through!”

“Pardon.”

“Behind you.”

Countless waiters and waitresses pushed past each other. A crowd grew beside Ezra and me, and we remained silent and pressed against his kitchen island. I feared that one of those plates would fall on the ground.

My fears became a reality when the blonde server who opened the door for me and Camille crashed into Ezra. The glass of wine in his hand slipped and spilled over me.

I gasped as the warm burgundy liquid ran from my chest down to my stomach.

“Lys, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to⁠—”

“It’s okay,” I sighed, holding up a hand, setting my glass on the counter.

He grabbed a white rag that was over the handle of his oven, dabbing it on my dress. “Here,” Ezra whispered.

He paused once he realized where he’d been patting the rag. I cleared my throat, a maroon shade covering my cheeks. I reached for the rag, our hands brushing. I gulped once I heard him let out a breath.

“Where’s your washroom?” I asked.

“Follow me.”

His fingers wrapped around mine as he pulled me into another long hallway. Paintings in golden, thick frames lined the walls of the corridor. The thresholds of the many doors situated in the corridor had been painted white with copper knobs. His apartment seemed out of my reach, only reminding me why we parted in the first place.

Ezra then opened the door to one of his lavatories. The restroom had been rich in gold and luxury. The tiled floorboards had been waxed and polished, shining under the fluorescent candlesticks hung on the walls. Mustard-hued curtains hung across the windows. A bathtub situated near the window, and a fireplace across from it.

“Why do you need a fireplace in here?” I questioned.

“Where have you been all these years? Do you not understand how cold it gets here?”

I chuckled. “But is it really necessary to have a fireplace in here? You could just turn on the heater.”

He blushed. “What if I wanted the bathroom to have some sort of class?”

I sent him a glare. “Of course.”

Ezra kneeled before the sink, opening the cabinet and taking out hydrogen peroxide and baking soda. As he set the items on the counter, I sighed. There was no point in trying to remove the stain.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“It’s a lost cause.”

“No, we have to at least try.”

“There’s no point, Ezra. It’s okay,” I chuckled, motioning for him to put the items back into the cabinet.

“No, but there has to be something I can do. I’m really sorry about your dress. I can reimburse you⁠—”