Page 11 of Closer

I hook mine with hers. “Deal.”

“Let’s do this.” Gemma joins in.

We dissolve into another fit of laughter before pulling each other into a tight group hug.

“I love you both so much,” I whisper. “Thank you for being here for me.”

“We love you too. Always,” Mary says.

“You’re stuck with us,” Gemma says.

We say our goodnights, and they disappear into their respective rooms. I stand in the hallway, the events of the day finally catching up to me. My feet ache from the heels, and my head is spinning from the alcohol and the whirlwind of emotions.

I fumble with the key card, finally managing to unlock the door and stumble inside. The room is spacious and luxurious, but all I can focuson is the king-sized bed calling my name. I kick off my shoes and flop down on the mattress, the layers of my wedding gown billowing around me.

“What have I done?” I press my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the world.

Sebastian Barron.

“I miss you.”

It’s hard to breathe in this thing.

With a deep, steadying breath, I force myself to stand up and face the mirror hanging above the dresser.

Is this who I’ve become?

Guess there is no other option.

I explore the room and find a small pair of scissors. Craning my neck, I try to position them so I can cut through the ribbons holding the corset. I’m about to make the first one when a knock at the door sounds.

Oh, good. They can help me out of this.

Putting the scissors aside, I stride to the door and open it.

Oh, no.

Chapter 5

Lilian

My heart races, a dizzying mix of shock, longing, and anger.

Sebastian looms before me, dressed in a tailored black suit that accentuates his lean, muscular frame. Our eyes meet, and a familiar uninvited surge of electricity courses through my veins. He looks every bit as striking as this morning in the mirror.

A devilish smirk curls his lips. “Hey, princess.”

I shut the door.

I’m imagining this again, right?

“Lil.” His voice, rough and familiar, seeps under the door.

My traitorous hands are grasping the handle. “Go away.” You’re not real.

“Not until you look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me here.” A challenge.

I laugh, the sound edged with hysteria. “And if I did, would it make a difference?”

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