Melissa
I don’t bother checking into my own room at delaney’s. I walk straight through reception and call the elevator. It takes me right up to the top floor, and I head for suite twelve with frantic steps.
I’m not scared.
My heart is already broken. I already hate myself for what I’ve done. My dreams are already in tatters.
My breath is ragged as I reach the door, but I make no move to compose myself before I knock.
He keeps me waiting this time, and I wonder if he’s right on the other side. I wonder if he’s having second thoughts.
Tears spring to my eyes the very second he opens the door. Bittersweet relief floods through me.
Black suit, white shirt, black tie. Dark eyes. Angry eyes.
Hurt eyes.
His hair is slick and his jaw is gritted.
The fine lines around his eyes look etched
