Page 93 of Closer

The corners of his mouth quirk up. “Fresh out, unfortunately.”

I’m reaching for another hanger when I realize the room has gone quiet. Too quiet. I peer over my shoulder to find Sebastian frozen, staring at something in the corner.

The sewing machine.

His voice is soft, hesitant. “Do you want to bring this with you?”

“I…” I don’t know.

“We can come back for it later if you want.”

He knows what that machine means to me. He knows the memories it holds because I told him.

I nod.

Because the truth is, I haven’t touched that machine since it kickstarted my nightmares. I’ve carried it from place to place, but I’ve never lifted the cover. Never even looked at it.

Maybe it’s time to let it go.

“No,” I say. “Leave it. I won’t… I won’t use it anyway.”

He opens his mouth as if to say something but then thinks better of it. He carefully drapes the cover back over the machine. Hiding it away once more.

I turn back to the closet, blinking away the sudden sting of tears. It’s just a thing. Just a stupid, useless thing.

“Thanks,” I mutter.

“For what?” He sounds genuinely confused.

I shrug, not looking at him. “For not pushing.”

We work in silence for a while, the only sound the rustle of fabric and the occasional thunk of a hanger. I focus on the motions, the simple task of folding and packing.

By the time we’re done, I have two suitcases full of clothes and a duffel bag with toiletries, my book, and other essentials.

I huff, stepping back from the closet. “I think that’s everything I need for now.”

“Alright. Let’s leave.” He takes both suitcases and leaves the bag for me.

I pause in the doorway, looking back at the wreckage one last time.

It hits me then, the finality of it all. Leaving this place and moving in with Sebastian… feels like the end of something. Or maybe the beginning. It’s only temporary. I’ll find something new.

Back at his apartment, he leads me into my new room. A guest room across from his.

It’s similar to Sebastian’s but with lighter accents—creamy white walls, soft gray curtains, and a plush ivory rug. It’s like a breath of fresh air compared to the dark, wooden tones of his space.

“Anne designed and furnished everything.” He sets my suitcases down. “I wanted to have every room in dark tones, but she insisted on making at least the guest room brighter.”

I run my fingers along the silky comforter and pore over the room. I kind of regret now leaving the sewing machine behind. It would have fit in here perfectly. Even if as a decoration. “It’s lovely. She’s really good at her job.”

“Glad it meets your royal standards, princess.”

“I’m not picky. You saw my room.”

“Could’ve fooled me with how long it took you to pack.”

“Well, someone kept distracting me with his commentary on my underwear choices.”

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