Page 132 of David's Love

Everything is in order as if the housekeeper had just left. I notice the basket of goodies on the table. Tension grabs me by the throat.

There’s no sign of her.

“Elizabeth?” I call out, my hand already on my phone.

A noise comes from the other room.

I barely take a step in that direction when she walks through the door, wearing the same clothes she had on the entire day, her hair in perfect order, and her coat draped over her arm.

She looks like she’s going out.

We’re in Singapore, for fuck’s sake.

Where is she going?

She hasn’t stepped outside of the hotel since we arrived.

A bad feeling rams through me.

Her eyes are stern and fearful.

“What’s going on?” I ask as if I’m about to step into a blade. “Is everything all right?”

Obviously, it isn’t.

And I wish I could take this with all the calmness I'm capable of, but it’s like walking into the same setup.

Things building up to this pivotal moment.

Buying a dress for that woman in the past, ready to propose to her.

And now doing almost the same thing.

She’s worn the first woman’s dress.

And I have her ring in my pocket.

This can’t happen again.

Whether it does or it doesn’t, it’s irrelevant.

From the pits of hell, rivers of anguish come falling through me.

If I were to fall into that blade, it would break. I’m that tense.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she says, and my hands turn to dust.

It’s like I have sand in my mouth, and my lips are made of hay.

“Okay,” I say sternly, ready to take it as a man.

Ready for anything, to be honest.

Moments ago. James Sexton invited me and her to their party. He was seconds ago from asking me to confirm that she is my woman now.

But he didn’t do it.

And I didn’t want to do it either.

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