Wrong for Me

30|fairytale

NAOMI COLE—SEPTEMBER

MY HAND LINGERED ON my chest after I slipped my necklace around my neck, feeling the swift beating of my heart as I gradually raised my gaze to look at myself in the mirror. To say that I was normally a confident person wouldn't be an understatement, yet those rare moments where I found myself overly anxious and insecure were close to too much to handle. And this was one of those moments.

For the rest of my life, the actions of one man would forever affect me in unexpected ways. I was happy; getting my master's degree, working the perfect internship, in a happy relationship and still he had control over my life. When I was entering uncertain situations, when I watched TV and someone just happened to vaguely mention abuse from a partner would simply send me over the edge. All because of him.

My gaze finally lifted and settled on my frame, unsure of what to think. The gown that I had chosen was simple: a rose pink hue made of satin that slightly drooped at the neckline. When Lauren and I had originally gone shopping, it was a struggle for me to pick the perfect dress—I was even skeptical about this one. It wasn't until Lauren gushed about how magnificent I looked that I truly believed what she was saying to be true—because it was and I would be out of my mind not to choose it.

Now, staring at myself with all of the pieces put together I saw the beauty that she had been talking about—the beauty I was coming to love in myself. A slowly growing smile graced my face, my hands smoothing down the fabric of my dress as I continued to inspect myself. I had managed to style my hair into an elegant puff and had even attempted—and seemingly succeeded at—a full face of makeup. I had added a variety of jewelry to the outfit; silver rings graced my fingers, a dainty, silver necklace with a charm of my initials hung from my neck, and diamond studs were in my ears.

There was soft knock at the bedroom door, only for it to be pushed open seconds letter despite my lack of response. In stepped Dante, dressed for the night and leaving me awestruck as soon as he stepped through the threshold. My eyes drifted to his hair immediately, it was trimmed although his slightly wavy hair was just long enough on the top. They trailed even farther down his body, landing in the velvet, midnight blue hued tuxedo.

"Wow," the two of us muttered in unison, only managing to let out minuscule chuckles from how entranced we were by one another.

He approached me slowly, running a hand over his face as she did so, still scaling my body with those chestnut eyes. His hands found their place on my waist, delicately running up and down my sides.

"I hope you know I'm not taking my eyes off you all night," he mused, his voice low as his eyes sparkled in the dwindling sunlight shining through the window.

"That's impossible," I reminded him with a tsk, moving to grab my purse only for him to keep me stuck in place.

"Is that a challenge?"

I laughed, shaking my head at him. "What is it with us and all these challenges?Remember when we weren't going to have sex and you lost that challenge?"

His brows furrowed and he took a step away from me, shaking his head. "You know that's not what happened, Naomi. Don't start something you can't finish."

"What if I want to?" I said lowly, daringly taking a step closer to him and letting one of my hands run down his chest.

In a flash, he had me spun around and standing back in front of the mirror, my hands placed firmly on either side of it. My eyes were locked on him in the mirror from where he stood directly behind me, lifting the fabric of my dress.

Admittedly, this hadn't been where I expected my words to get me, but it was also exactly where I wanted to be. The second Dante entered the room, my anxiousness dissipated—his presence, his gaze, and his touch never failed to calm me.