Page 61 of Close Your Eyes

Once we’re both inside, Eduardo taps at his phone. “Simone is bringing some dresses for you to try on.” Eduardo just stares at me, like I’m missing something.

“Thank you,” I tell him, yet he still stares.

Until finally he says, “Get undressed.”

There’s a knock at the door, and Eduardo ushers a woman, who must be Simone, into the room with a rolling clothing rack full of white wedding dresses.

“Bane approved of all of these,” she says as Eduardo shuts the door.

He returns his attention back to me. “You’re not undressed yet.”

I fling my shirt off as Eduardo and Simone create a frenzy around me, and for the next forty-five minutes, I’m propelled into the world of trying on dress after dress, until we find one that ‘sort of’ works. Their words, not mine.

As I gaze into the mirror, a stranger meets my eyes. The woman reflected back at me bears little resemblance to the person I once knew. Her eyes lack their usual sparkle, dulled by an indiscernible weight that seems to burden her spirit. And there she stands, dressed in a wedding dress that feels foreign against her skin, a garment I would never have chosen for myself. It's as if I'm observing someone else's life.

A solitary tear cascades down my cheek, betraying the storm of emotions within me. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Eduardo's words, mistaking my tear for one of joy, linger in the air, adding to the complexity of the moment.

I nod repeatedly, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on me. Simone and Eduardo hover around, adjusting the dress to fit my form, but I remain a silent observer, a mere shadow of my former self. In this moment, a single thought of Ledger blossoms into an overwhelming sea of memories, flooding my mind with his presence.

How will I ever go through with this wedding?

As more tears well in my eyes, I try my best to keep them from falling. Last night with Ledger was more than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. It was real.

The need to text him burns through my body, making my fingers tingle with desire to grab my phone and type out some words to him. Words of longing. Words of comfort.

He’s hurting, and it nearly breaks me in two thinking about him.

I need to see him. I need to find a way to explain why I’m marrying Bane. I have to tell him the truth. I don’t want him to think that I don’t feel the same way.

I can’t bear to have him hurt because of me.

Another twenty minutes goes by as Simone and Eduardo pin the dress, and make markings about how they’re going to alter the dress to fit. I try to remain as still as possible so the process will take less time, but it still feels like I’m living my life in slow motion.

As soon as we’re finished, I dress back in my jeans and pink button-down blouse and head back to my room. I snatch my phone from my dresser, needing to feel closer to Ledger.

My fingers type out a million different messages, but I can’t send any of them. There’s no way I can make this better for him, and I know if we meet up I’ll only end up letting him touch me in some way.

I’ll only end up letting him have me in every way a man can truly have a woman. I can’t risk that.

So, instead I shut off my phone and head back downstairs to help Bridgette plan my wedding.

My nerves are shot a few days later. I’m not even sure I can function by pouring myself a glass of water at this point.

“Are you okay?” my father asks me as we sit in the study of Bane’s mansion.

I nod. “Sure,” I peep out.

In the expansive outdoor garden of Bane's estate, a grand assembly of more than three-hundred guests fills the space. White chairs, arranged meticulously in rows, provide seating for the awaiting attendees. The transformation of the garden into a wedding venue is nothing short of breathtaking. Every corner is enhanced with fresh flowers, their vibrant colors adding a touch of elegance and romance to the setting. It’s nothing short of magical, only I don’t feel any of that magic here today.

Instead I see this wedding for what it truly is.

A business transaction.

A deal.

I turn my phone back on and am inundated by all the messages on my phone. Forty-two to be exact. All from Ledger. All saying the same thing, Don’t do it.

I breathe in a shaky breath, willing my body to calm down, but it’s no use. Last night I cried myself to sleep. I stare at myself once more in the mirror. I can’t do this.