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But there’s no one else in there aside from Cora.
She looks like she’s fighting ghosts. Grunting and cursing, banging into the dresser and the corner of the bed.
“I can’t get it off!” she gasps. Her arms are bent behind her, her fingers working frantically at the stuck zipper in the center of her back. “It’s—The stupid thing is stuck. I can’t… It won’t come off. Ivan, it won’t—”
I cross the room in two strides and peel her hands off of the garment. “Take a deep breath, Cora.” I hold her face and force her eyes to mine. “I’m here with you. You’re okay.”
Her green eyes go glassy. “Get me out of it, Ivan. Please.”
My gaze drops to the material. I could undo it one hook at a time. Unravel the knots. Tease open the laces.
Or I could just rip it to fucking shreds.
I go with Option B.
Seizing a fistful of this cursed fucking fabric in each hand, I snarl and tear it apart. Stitches pop and explode.
I’m tearing it apart for her, but it’s also for me. Cora was wearing this wedding dress for another man. I don’t just want to tear it off of her; I want to burn it to ashes.
I don’t stop until it’s fluttering in scraps around her like white petals. It’s an eerie echo of the night we met, when she stood surrounded by a very different kind of ruined dress.
Her arms are folded over her bare breasts when she turns to me. Color is coming back into her face, turning her cheeks a delicious shade of pink. I have to fight not to drink in every gorgeous inch of her.
Now isn’t the time.
This isn’t what she needs.
But I’m about to go insane with how bad I want her. I want to reclaim her from head to toe. With kisses, with lip and tongue and fingers and breath. I want to make her feel safe again. Whole again. To come undone in my arms again. She’s so close and it’d be so easy to reach out and drag her into bed with me…
Time. Give her time. She needs time.
“You should get dressed.”
I grab the shirt from the corner of the bed and unfold it for her. She keeps her hands over her chest while I slide what might as well be a two-person tent over her head. The hem settles midway down her thighs and, when she stretches her arms through the holes, the sleeves hit well past her elbows.
I force myself to take a step back. “I’ll let you get some sleep. I’m sure you’re tired.”
The decision has already been made: Cora needs to leave my life. I need to get her far away from this city and this world… from me. Blurring that line tonight will only make things harder.
Maybe this is for the best.
I swallow down the desire lodged in my throat and turn for the door.
Cora’s voice stops me. “I’m alive.”
I frown and look over my shoulder.
“I’m alive,” she repeats. “And we’re here. Together.”
I don’t need the reminder. I know down to the centimeter how close she is:very.How long it would take for me to span the gap:no time at all.
“And I don’t want to sleep,” she adds softly.
I turn around fully now. Cora is standing much closer. Too close. Close enough that all I’d have to do is reach out and she could be in my arms.
I fist my hands at my sides. “What do you want, Cora?”
She grabs the front of my shirt in her fists and gently presses her body against mine. “I want you to make me feel like everything is going to be okay.”
