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If I thought so little of marriage, I wouldn’t have had those reactions. Something inside of me knew that a life with Pete was a death sentence.
There were no hives in the month leading up to this wedding. No dread. Which made no fucking sense since this wedding could very well be a death sentence.
How could I feel better about a wedding I was being forced into than the one I’d chosen?
That’s why I was standing there, fully dressed in my gown, shaking. Because I knew that this was right. That for better or for worse, this was forever.
“I should run,” I whispered to my reflection.
The dress, the one I had sat and stared at on many occasions for an embarrassing amount of time, fit me perfectly, just as I’d expected. I hadn’t put it on, despite the protests from the designer. It was like I thought I was accomplishing something by refusing to put it on, like it was my last act of defiance. In reality, I didn’t want this moment right now. I didn’t want it to sculpt every curve of my body, didn’t want to feel like this was the exact wedding dress I would’ve imagined had I been the kind of woman who imagined her wedding day.
The hair stylist and makeup artist had just finished with me. My hair was pinned up in an ornate bun that I’d never in a million years be able to recreate. Soft tendrils fell from the front, framing my face. The stylist promised she’d come back to pin my veil into my hair. Because that was shit people did on their wedding day.
It was stupid, all the fucking traditions surrounding it. Jessica, on the other hand, had thrown herself into most of the traditions as my maid of honor. I’d tried everything I could to distance myself from her and the wedding, but she wasn’t having any of that. Because she was blissfully unaware that her and Eli’s lives hung in the balance of me either going through with this wedding or getting enough evidence for the police to put him away forever.
Standing here in a wedding dress that was made for me, it was clear I was going through with the wedding. I’d banished Jessica from the room because she’d started crying, and I really couldn’t handle that. I hoped that she and Aiden were screwing in a closet or one of the many bedrooms here. Someone deserved some uncomplicated happiness.
It was clear that I didn’t deserve uncomplicated happiness. Nor did I want it. I wanted him.
The man opening the door to my room, standing there in a Tom Ford suit, looking like he was carved from fucking marble.
I should’ve known that Cristian would eschew tradition and ideas about bad luck. One could say that it was bad luck that we even met in the first place.
He was freshly shaved. His hair was structured, shiny, framing his face. I’d never seen someone more handsome, more formidable.
I turned completely from the mirror, smoothing my damp palms over the lace. I heard his sharp intake of breath from across the room. Cristian wasn’t hiding his reaction from me. His expression. There was something there I’d never seen.
Reverence.
You couldn’t fake that. Whatever it was between us, however toxic and wrong, was the only thing I wanted in my life.
He was the only thing I wanted.
That’s why I was seized by terror. Because this was real. This wasn’t some kind of sick deal anymore. This wasn’t something I was going to pretend I was going along with until I ended it. There was going to be no end. This was the rest of my life.
Cristian was the rest of my life.
This life would be complicated. Violent. It would push me to my very limits.
Cristian stood there, staring for over a minute. My heart was beating in my throat. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t comment on how beautiful I was, on what this wedding meant, declare his undying love. He was saying everything with a single look.
He saw me.
He knew everything there was to know about me, yet I was still standing here in a wedding dress. I knew everything there was to know about him, yet I was still standing here in a wedding dress.
Eventually, he crossed the distance between us, though he stopped short of actually touching me. The oxygen in the air between us seemed to thicken.
“I have a wedding gift for you.”
I reached up to finger the jewels at my neck. “You’ve already given me diamonds, shoes, cars, money. I don’t think there are any gifts left.”
Cristian finally stepped closer now, walking around me so his fingers trailed along the nape of my neck.
“This gift isn’t anything that money can buy.”
I could barely breathe past the lump in my throat. Something felt off. Different.
