Wish you were mine

61. A Beautiful night gone Wrong

(Hey my lovely readers,
A little Suprise reel i have uploaded on Instagram. The link will be in my bio. So do watch.

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PENELOPE

The dress caught the light as she held it up, the soft fabric shimmering like dusk trapped in silk. It was beautiful. Painfully so. The kind of beautiful that made you forget, just for a moment, all the reasons you shouldn't want it.

All the reasons you shouldn't go.

Lillian helped me out of my clothes, her movements gentle, careful, as if I were made of glass. When she slipped the gown over my head, the fabric kissed my skin softly, cool and unfamiliar. She adjusted it with practiced hands, stepping back to admire her work.

"You look..." she paused, searching for the right word, "...like trouble," she finished with a grin.

I swallowed.

Trouble had always followed me. Or maybe I followed it.

She styled my hair simply, loose waves cascading down my back, framing my face in a way that made me look softer than I felt. Too soft for the war waiting upstairs. She dabbed a little gloss on my lips, nothing dramatic, nothing forced.

When she was done, she turned me toward the mirror.

For a moment, I didn't recognize the woman staring back at me.

She looked composed. Calm. Ethereal.
A lie wrapped in lavender.

Because underneath the silk and calm exterior, my heart was already racing. My thoughts were spiraling. My chest felt tight with something dangerously close to anticipation-and I hated myself for it.

Sean Anderson was waiting on the terrace.

The man who ruined me.

The man who used me.

The man who still had the audacity to pull my strings without touching them.
I clenched my jaw, fingers curling at my sides.

This doesn't mean forgiveness, I reminded myself.

This doesn't mean surrender.

It meant answers.

Closure.

Or maybe just the final blow that would finally kill whatever was left between us.

"Which one do you think looks good?"

Lillian's voice pulled me back from the storm raging inside my head. I blinked, forcing my gaze to focus on what she was holding-two pairs of heels resting delicately in her hands. One was simple, elegant in a quiet way. The other... the other was lavender. Soft, glossy, unreal. Like something that had stepped straight out of a fairytale and into my room to mock me.

Of course it was lavender.

My throat tightened for reasons I refused to acknowledge.

"The lavender one," I murmured, my voice barely carrying the weight of the decision it had just made.

A smile bloomed on Lillian's face, small but victorious, as she placed the heels gently on the floor in front of me. I slipped my feet into them, the cool satin brushing my skin, fitting perfectly-as if they had been waiting for me alone. The heels lifted me higher, not just in height, but in the quiet sense of inevitability curling around my spine.

There was no turning back now.

Lillian helped me with the final touches, her movements careful, reverent almost. Diamond drop earrings kissed my neck, catching the light with every small movement. A matching bracelet settled around my wrist, cold and heavy, like a silent reminder of where I was going and who would be waiting there.