Page 17 of Closer

His eyes search mine, and then he moves back, one hand coming up to cradle my jaw. “Why?”

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.” It’s the truth, as vulnerable as it makes me feel to admit it. “Please.”

Something softens in his gaze again. Without a word, he scoops me into his arms and carries me to the bathroom. “But first, we’ll take a bath and have a little more fun.”

I nod, breathing in his familiar scent and surrendering myself to this fantasy.

It’s just pretend.

I wake stretching my body. The sheets are tangled around my legs, and a lingering ache is between my thighs. But the place beside me is cold.

Of course he left.

What did I expect? That he’d stay and make me breakfast, ready to pick up where we left off years ago? This was a mistake. I never should have—

My gaze lands on a white rose and a folded piece of paper propped against the lamp.

That rose. It—He was there. I snatch up the note.

Jason isn’t good enough for you.

I stare at the five words in his bold, slanted script, vision blurry. Not an apology for leaving, not a promise to call.

He’s not wrong. I trace each arrogant letter.

Jason was and never will be the right man for me. But that doesn’t mean Sebastian is either.

And that’s okay. It’s okay.

Chapter 7

Lilian

I’m plungedinto inky blackness, formless and suffocating. Panic flows through my veins, and I spin around, searching for something, anything, to orient myself. But there is only the void.

A piercing scream shatters the darkness. I whirl toward the sound and find myself in an oddly familiar hallway. My childhood home. The scream came from the door at the end.

I race forward and slam my little fists against it. Everything’s red again. It’s coming from beneath.

Mommy. Daddy.

I pull the door handle, but it won’t open.

“Lil. I told you to hide.”

“Mommy!” I scream, voice choked with desperation. But there’s no reply other than a thud.

I fall to my knees with a ragged cry. This can’t be real. This is a nightmare.

But the metallic tang in the air and the sticky warmth soaking into my knees say otherwise. I begin to tremble, tears clouding my vision. I reach for the liquid. It’s blood. It’s not fabric.

I look around. Everything istinged in red.

“Come out.”

Dad?

“No. Don’t touch her.”

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