brightly.
And I feel like shit.
I slept alone last night even though Tobias has returned. His mother insisted we must sleep apart the evening before because he shouldn’t see me on our wedding day until I walk down the aisle.
I’m not happy about that.
I’m definitely not happy with the ending to that dream.
Nor am I thrilled with the fact I didn’t get to have sex last night after going two weeks without.
I am ready to burst from the sexual tension running throughout me.
Tension that not even masturbation could get rid of.
I wanted his cock inside me more than anything else.
And if it weren’t for the people who will hover around me all day trying to get things ready, I’d’ve already snuck off to his room for a quickie.
Soon , I chant over and over in my head. Soon you’ll be all alone with him.
Sighing, I toss aside the covers and make for the shower.
It’s going to be a really long day.
~*~
The moment I realize my feelings go deeper than I originally thought comes after I leave the shower.
I’m standing in front of the mirror putting on my hose when I see it.
A barely noticeable blemish on my chest.
And yet, there it is.
In the same location as the bullet hit the girl in my dream.
I must be seeing things because surely this isn’t real.
This isn’t logical.
It’s not making sense in any way.
Yet, I can’t ignore this feeling much longer.
The dreams featuring Tobias and I in differing roles. Different names, same faces.
A poem that I’m pretty sure is a curse upon the two lovers.
Hearing phrases in his voice while we’re having sex, yet he’s not speaking.
His sister, whose name is eerily similar to one from the past, lost in the woods in what appears to be a memory.
The nightmares where we one of us — or both of us — die.
I’m dressing robotically as I continue to stare at my face in the mirror, pondering.
If the girl in the most recent dream is me, is that why I avoid relationships? Is that the reason I don’t feel as if I can love anyone, ever?
And if it was me, if it had actually happened — and Tobias is the Thomas, and Theo, and Þórsteinn — does that mean there is no one else for me?
These notions torture me as I finish donning my lingerie.
One sticks out most of all.
Does he know? Has he known all along?
A knock at my door distracts me.
But that thought clings to the back of my mind, waiting for the perfect moment to seek an answer.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dexter and I wait, hidden from the rest of the party by trees, outside the door that led me into the garden my first morning here.
My life, I decide.
I’m definitely afraid for my life more than my heart.
If I am who I think, and he is who I think, then there isn’t any control over my heart.
Not where he is concerned.
It appears that loving him is inevitable; time, places, and circumstances irrelevant.
But my life?
Simply being around him appears to have deadly consequences.
And here I stand in a strapless ivory wedding dress about to hitch myself to what could possibly be a one way ticket to doom.
I start to tremble.
“You can always back out,” he murmurs, bending low so only I can hear him. “Turn around and go right back up those steps.”
“The door doesn’t open from the outside,” I retort, my voice cracking. “Besides, I have to marry him.”
He pulls me further away and uses a finger to tilt my chin up so he can look me in the face.
“You don’t have to do anything. Would it suck to lose your diner? Yes. But it wouldn’t be the end of the world.”
“It’s not about the diner.” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m not sure you’d believe what is it about even if I told you.”
He looks at his watch. “You’ve got two minutes until that music cues the beginning of the next year of your life at the very least. Try me.”
Two minutes.
I can’t possibly sum up everything in that amount of time.
So I say something I know he
And I feel like shit.
I slept alone last night even though Tobias has returned. His mother insisted we must sleep apart the evening before because he shouldn’t see me on our wedding day until I walk down the aisle.
I’m not happy about that.
I’m definitely not happy with the ending to that dream.
Nor am I thrilled with the fact I didn’t get to have sex last night after going two weeks without.
I am ready to burst from the sexual tension running throughout me.
Tension that not even masturbation could get rid of.
I wanted his cock inside me more than anything else.
And if it weren’t for the people who will hover around me all day trying to get things ready, I’d’ve already snuck off to his room for a quickie.
Soon , I chant over and over in my head. Soon you’ll be all alone with him.
Sighing, I toss aside the covers and make for the shower.
It’s going to be a really long day.
~*~
The moment I realize my feelings go deeper than I originally thought comes after I leave the shower.
I’m standing in front of the mirror putting on my hose when I see it.
A barely noticeable blemish on my chest.
And yet, there it is.
In the same location as the bullet hit the girl in my dream.
I must be seeing things because surely this isn’t real.
This isn’t logical.
It’s not making sense in any way.
Yet, I can’t ignore this feeling much longer.
The dreams featuring Tobias and I in differing roles. Different names, same faces.
A poem that I’m pretty sure is a curse upon the two lovers.
Hearing phrases in his voice while we’re having sex, yet he’s not speaking.
His sister, whose name is eerily similar to one from the past, lost in the woods in what appears to be a memory.
The nightmares where we one of us — or both of us — die.
I’m dressing robotically as I continue to stare at my face in the mirror, pondering.
If the girl in the most recent dream is me, is that why I avoid relationships? Is that the reason I don’t feel as if I can love anyone, ever?
And if it was me, if it had actually happened — and Tobias is the Thomas, and Theo, and Þórsteinn — does that mean there is no one else for me?
These notions torture me as I finish donning my lingerie.
One sticks out most of all.
Does he know? Has he known all along?
A knock at my door distracts me.
But that thought clings to the back of my mind, waiting for the perfect moment to seek an answer.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dexter and I wait, hidden from the rest of the party by trees, outside the door that led me into the garden my first morning here.
My life, I decide.
I’m definitely afraid for my life more than my heart.
If I am who I think, and he is who I think, then there isn’t any control over my heart.
Not where he is concerned.
It appears that loving him is inevitable; time, places, and circumstances irrelevant.
But my life?
Simply being around him appears to have deadly consequences.
And here I stand in a strapless ivory wedding dress about to hitch myself to what could possibly be a one way ticket to doom.
I start to tremble.
“You can always back out,” he murmurs, bending low so only I can hear him. “Turn around and go right back up those steps.”
“The door doesn’t open from the outside,” I retort, my voice cracking. “Besides, I have to marry him.”
He pulls me further away and uses a finger to tilt my chin up so he can look me in the face.
“You don’t have to do anything. Would it suck to lose your diner? Yes. But it wouldn’t be the end of the world.”
“It’s not about the diner.” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m not sure you’d believe what is it about even if I told you.”
He looks at his watch. “You’ve got two minutes until that music cues the beginning of the next year of your life at the very least. Try me.”
Two minutes.
I can’t possibly sum up everything in that amount of time.
So I say something I know he
Similar Books
