I shake my head quickly. “No. I’m good. Just… give me a minute.”
Reluctantly, he nods. “Okay. Don’t disappear on me, alright?”
I slip away, weaving through the crowd until I find the restroom. Thank God it’s one of those ridiculous luxury ones with velvet pink sofas and gilded mirrors. I collapse onto a cushion with a shaky breath and kick off my heels.
The moment my feet touch the ground, I wince. Red and raw, my toes are practically screaming, one already bleeding where the strap bit too deep.
“That looks painful.”
I glance up, startled, and a familiar face stands in front of me. Young, beautiful, the kind of woman who glows even under fluorescent lights. One of Jake’s co-stars from that action movie… the one with the explosions and the impossibly perfect people.
I force a smile. “Yeah… but it’s not so bad.”
She smiles knowingly and drops onto the sofa beside me, legs crossed effortlessly. “Louboutins on a night likethis?” She lets out a soft laugh. “Rookie move. Especially if you’re not used to them.”
There’s no malice, just understanding, like she’s been right where I am. Like she sees it, the breaking, and knows exactly how it ends.
“We all think we can survive this… at first.” She shrugs. “Some of us do.”
I huff a shaky laugh as my cheeks flush. “Ah, is it that obvious?”
She grins. “A little.” Then she digs into her tiny designer bag and pulls out a pair of foldable flats. “Here. Seriously. Take them. You’ll thank me.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t?—”
She waves me off. “Trust me. I’ve been there. I’m fine. I’ve learned, and you will too.”
Will I? Can people like me really learn this? And, more importantly, do I even want to?
By the time we leave the party, I’m quiet and numb. Jake chats easily with the driver, oblivious to the weight settling heavier on my chest with every mile we put between us and the crowd.
The house glows when we pull up, golden and perfect, like something out of a movie. Like him.
I should go straight to bed. My body screams for rest, every muscle aching, my joints flaring so bad I want to cry. But when I glance at Jake, still smiling, still so achingly beautiful in his tux, something inside me shatters a little more.
He’s oblivious. Oblivious to how hard tonight was for me. How much I struggled just to keep up.
And it’s not his fault.
But that doesn’t make the crack any smaller.
I know it then. This is goodbye. Maybe not tonight, but it’s coming sooner than I want to admit.
And if tonightisour last night, I want to remember it. Every second.
I turn to him, forcing a soft smile as I reach out, my fingers brushing along his jaw. “Come to bed with me.”
His smile softens, that rare, almost boyish grin tugging at his lips, sweet and sinful all at once. “Fuck, yes. I’ve been dreaming about getting you out of this dress since the moment we left.”
I take his hand, weaving my fingers through his and grounding myself in the feel of him. He follows, no rush, no frantic hands. Just this. The quiet before the storm I know is coming.
I lead him to the bed, turning to face him, breathing him in like it might be the last time.
Because it is.
His hands settle on my hips, slow and reverent, like touching me is a privilege he still can’t quite believe he’s earned. His fingertips tremble as he skims the straps from my shoulders, peeling the dress from me inch by inch—not like he’s undressing me, but unwrapping something sacred.
“Look at you,” he whispers with awe. “I swear… every time I see you like this… it ruins me.”
