Page 297 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

It fits.

Confused, I check the other dresses. All are in my size, some of them almost as if they were custom made so that the waist is small while the upper bodice is more generous for my chest.

I gulp down, a wave of emotions rolling over me.

Did he…did he do this for me?

These are some of the most exquisite clothes I’ve ever seen.

Turning to the shoe wall, I grab a couple random pairs and slip them on. If they all fit, then these are for me.

I try pair after pair, and not surprisingly, they all fit.

My heart beats loudly in my chest and my eyes fill with tears. He did this for me.

I don’t know when he did it, or why, or even how. How did he even know my sizes so well? But a deep sense of awe and appreciation fills me.

For someone who’s not very concerned about clothes or shoes, or even jewelry—although I do like pretty things like any other female—the sight of this room fills me with more joy than I’ve ever felt in my life. But it’s not for the material things. It’s for the meaning behind them.

He thought of me. Even when I doubted he did, he thought of me.

He never stopped thinking of me.

The door behind me opens again and he steps into the room. So lost in my thoughts I was that I let my guard down and he snuck up on me. I didn’t hear him. Not when the loudest sound in this room was my thudding heart.

“I planned to show you this a little later,” he mentions.

I slowly turn and wipe the moisture from my lashes.

“When did you do this?”

He shrugs. “Here and there, while I was waiting for you.”

My brows go up. “You bought so much in so little time?”

Another shrug. “I’ve been waiting for what feels like an eternity.”

I gulp down. “Thank you.”

“My mother is making food. Why don’t you choose one of these dresses and come down with me to meet her?”

I nod slowly. He doesn’t ask me why I bolted when I did, as if he already knew my deepest thoughts and worries.

“How about this one?” he asks as he picks a blue day dress.

“I want the red,” I say as I point to the same dress but in red.

“Blue is my favorite. Wear it for me?” His voice is soft, warm. How can I refuse him?

I take it and shed my dress so I can put it on. Mine comes around to zip me up at the back.

“And these shoes?” He holds up a pair of black slippers.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

He leads me out of the room and down the main stairs toward the ground floor. My anxiety is all but gone as I stare up at his handsome profile. There’s a fluttering in my lower stomach that I would have confused for hunger in the past, but now I know better. It’s him; my reaction to him; everything he makes me feel.

It’sonlyhim. And a little bit of hunger, but that’s almost forgotten at this point.

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