Page 190 of Love in the Dark

Bellamy glances down absentmindedly at the guests and freezes.

“Nera,” she says.

“Yeah?” I ask, distracted. Six needs to be ready in less than thirty minutes and based on the sounds coming from her dressing room, I’m guessing a lot of makeup touchups are going to be needed.

She turns towards me, wide-eyed, and points down at something through the window.

“Tristan’s here.”

My head snaps up. “What?”

I run up to the window at the same time as Thayer does and the three of us cram ourselves together to be able to look through the small pane of glass.

“Of course, he’s here,” Thayer says, a smile stretching across her face. “You’re here, Nera, so where else would he be?”

The three of us stare at him. He stands confidently amongst the crowd of people, a glass in hand. He’s wearing a classic tuxedo and even from here I can tell it’s tailored to within an inch of his life. The cut emphasizes the broadness of his shoulders and the tapered length of his waist.

Heat rises in my cheeks, both in flushed arousal and in embarrassment that he can get me so hot with just one look.

“I… I can’t deal with this right now,” I say, flustered. “I have a best friend to marry off.”

The truth is, I’m self-conscious about seeing him. I’ve been traveling for the last couple of weeks doing competitions in the lead up to the Olympics, so we haven’t seen each other.

The time away has lent some much-needed perspective. Coming home to empty hotel rooms after long days of training made me realize just how much I missed him. I’d found myself looking out of my window out of habit and being crippled by disappointment, as if I expected that he’d somehow be there.

He wasn’t, but he made sure I couldn’t forget about him. Every day, there was a new package waiting for me in my room. I wasn’t sure how he knew where I was, but they never failed to appear, no matter what city or country I was in.

At first, just small trinkets and notes, but then yesterday, I’d found a large box waiting for me. I opened it gingerly, doubtful of its contents, but when I finally worked my way past all the bubble wrap and styrofoam peanuts, it took my breath away.

Inside lay an épée fencing mask, the kind I use in competition. Traditionally, the mask is black except for the padded protective gear that covers the neck and throat. This one had been customized with white flames climbing from the bottom of the mesh section and up, covering about half of the mask in the design. It looked intimidating as hell just sitting in the box, so I could only imagine what it would look like on.

I didn’t wait to find out and immediately pulled it on over my head, looking at myself in the mirror.

I looked fucking cool.

I knew no one would have one like it and I loved that it was going to make me instantly recognizable. The flames felt powerful and gave me the last remaining bits of confidence I needed.

For the first time since our breakup, I’d been the one to initiate contact and I’d texted him a photo.

Me:[sends photo]

Me:I love it, thank you

His response had been immediate.

Gary:You’re welcome, baby. You’re going to look hot as fuck winning in it.

He has such blind belief in me, it just makes me love him more. After months of dedicating himself to me in every way, it’s getting harder and harder to doubt his intentions. As difficult as I’m finding it to trust him again, my defenses are thinning away beneath the incontrovertible truth that he really does love me.

I didn’t respond to his text yesterday, unsure what to say, and now here he is.

Crashing my best friend’s wedding.

I’m going to have to see him – even more complicated, I’m going to have to figure out what I want from him – and that’s why I’m feeling uneasy about it.

“This wedding is going to get delayed if we don’t do something,” Thayer says, pulling me from my anxiety spiral.

I check the time on my phone and head down the hall when I see how close we are to showtime. I knock politely at the door, the noises thankfully over now, and lean closer so they can both hear me.

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