I couldn’t take my eyes off Aeri. That light blue dress was doing things to me—hugging her curves, showing off her toned arms, the open cleavage, and that high slit revealing one long, smooth leg. My mind was racing, and I didn’t bother hiding it. "Damn," I said, my voice low and serious, "I’m having some wild thoughts right now."
Aeri’s face flushed a deep pink, her eyes darting away as she pouted. "Stop fooling around, you idiot," she said, her voice half-scolding, half-playful. She reached up and pressed her hand over my eyes, her fingers soft and warm against my skin.
I grinned, grabbing her wrist gently but not pulling her hand away. "Ahh, these soft hands," I said, my tone softening. "I missed them so much these past few days."
She laughed, a bright, flustered sound, and pulled her hand back, her cheeks still pink.
"You... oh my god, Ezra," she said, shaking her head like she didn’t know what to do with me. She took a step back, smoothing her dress as if to steady herself, then looked up with a softer expression. "You hungry? They’ve got starters over there—fancy little things. Maybe a drink? You’ve been eating properly, right? On time?"
I chuckled, stepping closer and resting my hands on her shoulders, feeling the warmth of her bare skin under my palms. "Shh, calm down, Aeri," I said, looking her in the eyes. "I took care of myself, I swear. Slept well, ate on time, the whole deal. I’m not hungry right now—wanna eat later, with you." I gave her a genuine smile, the kind I saved just for her.
Her eyes shimmered, catching the chandelier light, and a shy smile spread across her face, her cheeks still tinged with that soft blush.
"Okay," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. The way she looked at me made my chest tighten.
Before I could say anything else, a voice cut through from behind us.
"Mister Ezra?" A waitress in a crisp black uniform stood there, holding a tray of empty glasses, her expression polite but urgent.
"Yeah, that’s me," I said, turning to her, my brow furrowing. "What’s up?"
"The bride, Sara, is asking for you," she said, nodding toward a hallway off the main hall.
I blinked, confused. "Me?" I asked, glancing at Aeri to see if she knew what this was about.
"Yes, sir," the waitress confirmed.
I looked back at Aeri, hoping for some kind of clue. She just shrugged, her lips quirking into a small smile.
"Go check it out," she said, nudging my arm. "She probably just wants your well wishes or something."
I snorted, adjusting my shirt collar. "Yeah, right. That stupid woman needs my wishes," I muttered, my voice thick with sarcasm.
Aeri laughed, shaking her head as I turned to follow the waitress. As we walked through the crowd, my mind churned.
*What does that stupid bitch want now?* I thought, irritation bubbling up. Sara and I had history—messy, complicated history.
She stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, its polished surface reflecting the soft glow of wall sconces.
"In here, sir," she said, gesturing for me to go inside before turning back toward the hall.
I took a deep breath, my hand hovering over the doorknob. "Here goes nothing," I muttered, pushing the door open, ready to face whatever Sara had in store.
The door gave a soft *clack* as I pushed it open, stepping into a small, brightly lit room that smelled faintly of hairspray and roses.
My eyes landed on Sara, perched on a cushioned stool in front of a massive vanity mirror framed with glowing bulbs. She was a vision in white, her bridal gown flowing around her like a cloud, the fabric catching the light and making her glow almost otherworldly.
Her short, dark hair was styled in sleek waves, tucked neatly behind her ears, and a delicate silver tiara rested on her head, glinting as she turned slightly. She looked... stunning, and it annoyed me how much I noticed.
"Oii," I said, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. "What do you need from me?"
The room wasn’t empty. Three other women were bustling around—one adjusting a veil on a stand, another fiddling with a makeup palette, and a third organizing a tray of hairpins and jewelry. They glanced up as I spoke, their chatter pausing for a moment.
Sara’s eyes met mine in the mirror, and a slow smile spread across her face.
"Can you all give us a minute?" she said, her voice calm but firm, a clear hint for privacy.
The women nodded without a word and walked out of the room. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving just me and Sara in the quiet.
"Hello, Ezra," she said, her voice softer now, almost teasing.
She tilted her head, her smile growing as she stood and smoothed the front of her gown.
"So," she said, pushing her hair back with a dramatic little flourish, "how do I look?" She struck a pose, one hand on her hip, the other lifting the edge of her dress like she was modeling for a magazine shoot.
I didn’t miss a beat. "Ugly as fuck," I said, my voice flat, my expression deadpan.
Her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened in mock outrage. "Huh!?" she gasped, her hand flying to her chest as if I’d wounded her.
But the twitch at the corner of her mouth gave her away—she was trying not to laugh.
"You’re such a jerk, Ezra," she said, stepping closer. "Can’t you at least pretend to be nice on my wedding day?"
I shrugged, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Why start now?" I said, leaning back against the wall, my hands stuffed in my pockets. "You didn’t call me in here for compliments, Sara. What’s up?"
She sighed, her playful demeanor fading just a touch as she turned back to the mirror, adjusting her tiara with a small frown. "Maybe I just wanted to see you," she said, her voice quieter now, almost like she meant it. "You know, before everything changes."