Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I walk closer to the mirror, and the high slit at the thigh teases a show of skin with every step. My heart flutters at just how flattering it is. I take in my reflection as impartially as I can. The dress is stunning, and I feel quite beautiful in it, more than I’ve felt in a decade.
The woman staring back is bold, alive, and I’m starting to love her. I see the fire Max always saw. This is who I could’ve been, who I am when I am with him, and it’s a gift, a fleeting glimpse of a life I was meant to have.
I step into an elegant pair of silver heels, their straps delicate against my ankles. Holding my clutch, I take a deep breath. Just as I’m standing behind the door feeling quite sick with nerves, a soft knock at the door jolts me. My pulse spikes, and nervous anticipation floods my veins.
“Come in,” I call, voice shaky.
Max steps through, his black tuxedo tailored to perfection, outlining his broad shoulders, the crisp white shirt stark against his tanned skin. My stomach contracts as I take him in. He is unbelievably gorgeous. His blue eyes widen, raking over me, and his breath catches, a sound that sends heat pooling low in my belly.
“Amelia,” he says, voice low, rough, stepping closer. “You’re… wow. I knew you would look beautiful but… Jesus!” His gaze lingers on the dress, the slit, the curve of my hips, and I feel it like a touch, my skin flushing under his stare. “I can’t fucking take my eyes off you.”
“You clean up pretty well yourself,” I say, voice teasing, but my heart’s pounding, overwhelmed by his intensity, by the way he makes me feel seen, wanted.
He grins wolfishly.
“Has Jason’s babysitter arrived?”
“Yup, she’s here. Pizza is ordered. All is good. We use her all the time, and she has my number in the event of an emergency.”
He offers his arm, and I take it. His warmth seeps through the tux, and it makes me feel a part of him as we head downstairs into the quiet foyer. The moonlight is spilling across the marble, and outside, a limousine waits, its sleek black body gleaming under the streetlights. I am incredibly surprised at this, as I’m sure this is among his fleet of cars. I turn to him then, and something in his eyes tells me there’s a dot to connect here.
"This is… extravagant, no?" I ask. "Am I missing something?"
“I was supposed to take you to prom,” he murmurs, voice low, as he opens the limo door. “I couldn’t then. So I wanted to make it right tonight.”
His words hit deep, like a wound and a gift. I am too shocked by his words to answer. I stare at him in disbelief. He remembered that it mattered to me. I have to fight to keep my tears from spilling and ruining my carefully applied makeup.
I slide into the plush leather seat inside the regal interior. It is cool inside, and scented with leather and the faint smell of champagne.
“Ready, my love?" he asks as he settles beside me. Max looks at me like I am his world.
I nod in response, feeling like a teenager with him all over again. “Thank you,” I whisper.
His thigh brushes mine, and a spark ignites my skin.
The limo glides through the city, lights streaking past, and I feel delirious with happiness. But I know that the more he does things like this, and the more time we spend together, the more my heart broods, mourning for what could’ve been. This was supposed to be my life—Max on my arm, nights like this, a world painted in colors he brings out in me. With him, I’m alive, vibrant, a woman who loves herself, who feels every shade of joy, desire, pain. But this life is not mine, none of it is mine. I’ll have to give it back to Sara.
And face the crushing reality that no man is ever going to live up to Max, and I’ll probably end up a lonely old spinster. Thank God, we arrive at the event, and I am grateful for the reprieve from my painful thoughts.
The gala is in a grand hotel ballroom, and as we head in, I am awestruck by the gorgeous chandeliers dripping crystal, their light dancing across polished floors. Everything looks so classy and elegant. Guests in tuxedos and gowns swirl around us, their laughter mingling with the clink of champagne flutes, the air scented with expensive perfume.
Max’s hand rests casually on my lower back, guiding me through the crowd, and I feel every eye on us, on the emerald dress that hugs my curves. We sip champagne, the bubbles sharp on my tongue, and he leans close, his breath warm on my ear.