AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Would Ruby ever forgive me for marrying her lover? For aligning myself with a family who sold her into slavery?
Can I forgive myself?
My shower is full of dark thoughts as I lather shampoo in my hair, scrub a washcloth over my skin, drag a razor down my leg. It’s like I’m in a dreamy haze and my life isn’t real right now.
Guilt overwhelms me.
I’m sick.
Disgusted with everything around me.
The lies.
The immoral people.
The debauchery.
I slam the shower door open. Dripping water and suds on the floor, I hunch over the toilet, emptying the contents of my stomach.
I’m not made for this sort of life, and now, I’m here to stay until everything is resolved.
How am I supposed to put a smile on my face, shake hands, and make small talk when I know heads are going to roll tonight? Did I suddenly become impervious to death since I committed the act myself?
I clutch the rim of the bowl, heaving again. The cool air on my wet skin has me shivering while steam still billows out from the open shower door.
I’m a mess, but I pull myself up and enter the shower again. Catching some water in my mouth, I swish it around and spit it down the drain while I finish my shower. I need to get my head on straight, work on my reactions to things, keep my poker face pasted on.
I turn the shower off and step out, drying myself and then brushing my hair out. The bathroom is warm, but I’m still cold.
Maybe I’m coming down with something?
I don’t want to go tonight. I want to stay in and mope around and figure out how Connor will end my life when he finds out what I did.
I open the door to let the steam out, and the cool air from the bedroom quickly fades the condensation from the mirror.
I set to doing my makeup. I put my whole focus into it, and before I know it, I’m ready to step into my dress.
I turn away from the mirror, unable to look at myself any longer. I know things about tonight—things that, two years ago, I would have been blissfully unaware of—and it’s fucking with my head. I really should tell Connor I’m sick, but it would look strange for him to show up without his new wife.
I move to the bedroom and pull the dress from the hanger. I unzip the hidden side zipper and then lower it to step inside. I was right; it’s amazing against my skin. It makes me feel seductive as I pull it over my hips and put my arms through the straps. It’s a perfect fit, and I walk back to the bathroom, zipping it up before surveying it in the mirror.
Blood red.
Like the blood that will be spilled tonight.
Fitting.
I head to the closet and find my trusty heels, the ones that have served me well over the weeks of being a fake waitress and going to a funeral, and now, they will carry me in this scarlet dress to rub elbows with Heywood’s finest. People who wouldn’t have looked twice at me in my old life. Not that I care. I’m not the jealous type. I was perfectly happy in my small apartment with Ruby.
But now, I have to find some semblance of commonality with those people, and it’s going to be odd.
I grab the matching clutch from the end of my bed. I slip some lipstick and mints inside. I don’t have anything else to put in there. But it gives me something to do with my hands.
I head to the staircase and pause at the top, placing my hand on the banister. Connor is waiting at the bottom, and he hasn’t looked up yet. I watch him for a moment, loving the way he looks in a tuxedo. I see him all the time in a suit, but there’s something about him in a tailored tux—the stark black, the clean lines, his perfectly fixed hair. It makes me want to beg him to stay home so I can peel him out of his clothes instead of hobnobbing at a gala.
Then, he checks his watch and glances up at the top of the staircase, meeting my gaze.
Busted.
