It had been five days before the wedding and two days after Lucian had come to visit me. The day before, I'd spent the day in my room. Dorian had knocked, but I'd made out I was asleep, and eventually he'd text asking how I was, and I lied to him and told him I still wasn't feeling great, but I was a little better.
In the day alone, I'd tried to gain my focus by going back to my drawing, but I hadn't been able to do it, and in frustration, I'd thrown my sketchbook across the room in anger and sat and cried on the mat in front of the fire. I knew I wouldn't be able to spin the sick story to Dorian any longer without him letting Xander know, and I really didn't want Xander to worry over my stupid and poor choices that had yet again come to haunt me.
I forced myself to get up and get shower
