Page 44 of Don’t Forget Me

I laughed. “It’s fine. No need to lose your mind.”

He let out a breath as he set the bottles back into the compartment. Once he closed the cabinet, he stood and met my gaze. We remained still, looking at one another. Our eyes speaking a thousand words without us having to enunciate a single sound.

I looked away. I was still engaged to Aldair, I reminded myself.

Then he cleared his throat, walking toward his fireplace. But he didn’t kneel to ignite the fireplace; instead, he hauled open a glass cellar. Ezra pulled a long bottle with a red tip from within the rack. “It’s twenty-three years old, from the best chateau region of France.”

I widened my eyes in surprise. “Sounds expensive.”

“Sit with me?” he asked as he sat before the hearth, pressing a button near the fireplace. Orange embers came to life as warmth began to creep into the bathroom. I hadn’t noticed how chilly it had become. I walked toward him and carefully claimed the space in front of him.

Nothing good could come from being this close to him, but I would be near him, and that was all that mattered to me. My heart was already shattered, what were a few more cracks?

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to be this close,” I confessed.

His brow furrowed. “Why? It’s not like we are going to do anything that could hurt our reputation, status, life, or relationships.”

“The simple act of me sitting with you, in such an intimate manner, could be misinterpreted,” I argued.

Ezra set the corkscrew at the top of the wine bottle, the cork popping in just the perfect way. “By who? Your fiancé, who isn’t even here? The journalists who were forced out of my apartment after gathering their intel in the first hour of the celebration?”

I sighed. He had a good argument, perhaps a few minutes wouldn’t hurt me too much.

“Want the first sip?” He extended the bottle to me, the maroon liquid swirling inside.

I grabbed the bottle and swung it over, taking a big chug. “So tell me about this fiancé of yours.”

A question appeared across my face.

“How did you meet him?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to talk about my future husband with my ex-boyfriend,” I chuckled. I noticed the way he flinched when I said the word husband. The words hurt me just as much as they pained him.

Did he notice how much I grimaced just by even talking about him?

“Fine, fine. I met him at a hospital.”

“What?” he exclaimed.

I laughed at his wild look.

“How in the world…” he trailed off, not being able to finish the question.

“It sounds weird, I know.”

“Sounds weird? It is weird, Lysandra.”

I shook my head before taking one more swig of the wine bottle, the handle growing slippery as my hands grew slimy. I hadn’t been this close to him in so long. And not just physically, but emotionally.

I knew I would regret opening up to him. I knew it the moment his eyes glimmered in jealousy as I told him the story of how Aldair and I met. Nonetheless, I continued the story of how I wound up in the hospital the night of Cami’s twenty-first birthday dinner.

twenty one

EZRA

5 YEARS AGO

My father knew how to provoke a reaction from me. He was the only person who made me lose control over myself. I didn’t understand how he did it.