Page 186 of Where Your Scars Meet Mine
The hair. The lipstick. The dress. The way black somehow makes her look even softer yet more sexy at the same time. Maria tells her she looks criminal. Cheyenne calls her evil. Stephanie laughs and starts talking about photographs before anyone cries. Through all of it, Octavia keeps offering little thank-yous, blushing harder each time, but her eyes keep coming back to me.
That is what destroys me.
Because she looks at all of them politely.
She looks at me like I am the reaction that matters.
By the time she reaches the last stair, I can still feel the small velvet box in my hand, forgotten and remembered in the same second. Stephanie is already trying to herd everyone into some kind of group arrangement in the foyer before moving outside for better light.
“One more thing,” I say quietly.
Her attention shifts to the box immediately. Confusion softens her features first before curiosity, then finally, something more fragile when she realizes I am holding it out for her.
She takes it carefully.
The room doesn’t disappear exactly, but it blurs at the edges while she opens it. The moment her eyes land on the necklace, recognition hits her face so fast it nearly knocks the breath out of me. Not because she has seen this exact piece before, but because she understands it right away. The little gold moth. The pink diamond set at its center. The private language of it. The piece of me inside it.
Her mouth parts.
Watching a sheen rise in her eyes almost instantly, the fact that she tries to hold it back is somehow worse than if she simply cried. Watching her fight emotion always feels like witnessing something too private to deserve.
“Can I?” I ask.
The question comes out rougher than I mean it to. She nods without speaking.
When she turns, lifting her hair, all I can think is that no man should be trusted with a neck like hers.
The fastening itself is simple. My fingers are not. They should be steadier than this. They aren’t. The clasp catches once before I manage it properly. When the necklace settles against her skin, the moth looks like it was made for her in a way I was not prepared to survive. My fingertips brush the back of her neck as I let the clasp go. Soft skin. Warmth. One tiny shiver that travels straight through me.
I expect her to turn and smile.
Maybe to cry.
Maybe just to whisper thank you.
Instead, the second she faces me again, she steps forward and wraps both arms around my neck.
The hug catches me completely off guard.
For the smallest fraction of a second, I freeze, too aware of the room, of Stephanie, of Jacob, of the girls, of the fact that I’mstill standing in his suit with his daughter pressed against me like she doesn’t care who sees. Then my arms are around her, holding her properly, fully, because there is no world in which I don’t return this.
Her body fits against mine with devastating ease.
The dress is cool under my hands. Her hair smells like whatever girls use to become unforgettable. Her heartbeat is fast enough that I can feel it through both of us. My eyes close for one brief, helpless second because if I leave them open, I might do something worse than hold her. I might kiss her right there in front of everyone and let the night sort itself out later.
A camera flash goes off.
Of course it does.
When I open my eyes again, Stephanie is lowering the camera with a smile she’s trying and failing to hide.
“I have a feeling,” she says, “you’re going to want that one.”
Across the room, Jacob is looking at me over her shoulder.
The message in his face is unmistakable. We will be having a conversation the second this house empties out again. There is no anger in it, which somehow makes it scarier. Just the calm patience of a man storing things away for later.
Then Stephanie starts shepherding everybody toward the door, calling for outside pictures before the light goes bad, fussing over dresses, heels, and the exact placement of hands. The foyer breaks into movement around us. Cheyenne grabs Maria by the wrist. Maria grabs her clutch. Stephanie keeps talking while Jacob steps aside.
