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With my eye, I see blonde hair, dark eyes, and red lips, a sharp contrast to my pale skin.

With my heart, I see the one person I swore to never become. My mother.

I see a sharp tongue inside a wicked ruby mouth, dark eyes that hold secrets, and a heart darker than the blackest mascara. My breath quickens and my shoulders shake with silent sobs.

I don’t want to be her. I don’t even want to be me most days, and I’m only a fraction of what she was. Broken. Lonely. Empty. I don’t need to be rescued, I need the one who can hold me tight enough to hold all my broken pieces together. Someone who can help me chase away the ghosts of the past. Cohen.

Just as I’m about to secure my mask, I let it fall from my hand and it lands with a quiet thud on the marble. Leaving it on the vanity, I rush out to find him. I’m done hiding.

The tingling assaults my senses the minute I step outside that door. He’s standing in the corridor, leaning up against the stone wall, his hands tucked in his pockets and looking better than any man has a right to.

But it’s not just how he fills out that tux, it’s how he makes me feel. Pushing off the wall, he holds out his hands as I walk to him, walking faster with each step closer I get to his waiting arms.

“Dance with me?” he asks as soon as his fingers skim my wrists, pulling me in. I gaze up into his tranquil ocean eyes as he waits for my answer.

I need more than his arms for a few simple melodies, under lights, on a crowded dance floor. I need him to take everything, then fill the void in a darkened room with only the sounds of our breath creating a symphony of ecstasy.

I could play coy or the part of the seductress, like I have so many times, to get what I want. Instead, I expose myself and ask him for what I need.

“Make me forget.” The words fall from my trembling lips, a whispered plea.

His eyes widen, and without another word, I’m being whisked toward the exit.