NADIA.
The woman in the mirror wasn't me.
That was my first thought when the makeup artist Jeremy had called finally stepped back and let me see. The dress was black and did the kind of work that looked effortless and cost a fortune — cut close, cut clean, the sort of thing that made a body look like a decision men would make and bear the consequences later.
My hair had been pulled away from my face in soft waves that fell down my back, and my mouth was painted a deep red that made me feel confident.
I had not dressed like this in a long time. With Liam, I dressed safe. Plain enough not to call attention to myself - he hated that - and pretty enough not to embarrass him in public.
My phone lit on the vanity, and the woman in the mirror flinched.
Talia:
'I know you'll return to h
