Page 42 of One Room Vacancy
She blinks. “Oh my God. You’re reinstating the rule?”
“It’s more of a…re-commitment,” I mutter.
“To what? Emotional torture?”
I laugh despite myself, shaking my head. “I’d venture to call it physical torture as well.”
Savannah snorts. “Yeah, no shit.”
I don’t say anything else, because the truth is, she’s not wrong.
About any of it.
“I don’t know, Sav.” I twist the cap back onto my gloss and stare down at the counter like it might have answers. “It’s weird. With me and Gabe. One day I’m thinking maybe it’s worth bringing up—like, really bringing up. It’s been months since him and Kara broke up, and it’s been radio silence. No drama, no backslide. It actually seems like he’s committed this time.”
Savannah doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to.
“But it’s complicated,” I go on. “We’re roommates. And…well. You were there.”
That’s all I say—all Ihaveto say.
Her expression shifts, barely, but I see it. She remembers. The hotel. The reception.
“He hurt you,” she says quietly. “More than once.”
I nod. “And I let him.”
“You trusted him.”
“Yeah.” My voice is soft. “And I don’t know if I can do that again. Even if he is different now. Even if part of me still…” I stop.
Savannah reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You don’t owe him anything,” she says. “But you owe yourself the truth.”
I grab my drink, take another long sip, and slip into the guest room, which, over time, has become my unspoken home-away-from-home in my brother’s house.
The dress is already laid out on the bed. Strappy, low-backed, fitted in that subtle, dangerous way. The fabric’s soft, moves with me, and the color?—
Burnt orange.
Not the same one I wore to the rehearsal dinner, but close enough that it might register.
Not that I’m thinking about that.
I pull it on, adjusting the hem, smoothing it down over my hips like I’m not aware of exactly how it looks.
When I step back into the bathroom, Savannah looks up from her mascara and gives a soft, knowing “Damn.”
I arch a brow. “Too much?”
She smirks. “Not even close.”
I turn back to the mirror, adjusting my gold earrings as I drain the last of my drink.
Just a color. Just a dress.
That’s all.
Besides, I don’t even know if he’s going to be there tonight.
