Chapter 75 The Night Before My Wedding (1)

• The hotel room smelled like lavender and expensive sheets, but it felt too big, too quiet without him. I paced barefoot across the plush carpet, the hem of my silk slip brushing against my thighs. The city lights blinked through the window, a restless glow that matched the hum in my chest. Tomorrow was the day—my day, our day. Wedding bells, white lace, Dave in a suit that’d make my knees weak all over again. But tonight? Tonight, I was alone, and it was driving me insane.
• Dave had gone out with the guys—some last-minute bachelor thing. “Just a drink,” he’d said, kissing my forehead before slipping out the door, his cologne lingering like a promise. That was two hours ago. Two hours of me, this room, and a buzzing in my veins I couldn’t shake.
• I flopped onto the bed, the mattress swallowing me up. My phone sat on the nightstand, taunting me. I shouldn’t call. I should just sleep, be the good bride, save the energy for tomorrow. But my skin felt too warm, my thoughts too loud. I missed him—his hands, his voice, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered. And, God, I was aching for him.