DRAVEN
She twirled around in a dress that looked like all the others I had seen her wear but said, "It's my mum's." She gushed. "It was my present for our wedding."
I smiled, like I had practiced in the mirror, softening my eyes in the most genuine way that I could muster without my stomach flipping in disgust. "You are a dream."
She stopped then, her mouth opening, her brows furrowing with emotion. "You have never said that to me before. Not while we are alone, never."
I let regret take over my face, closing the distance between us. My arms found her waist, pulling her close even if my gut twisted at the tender exchange.
After what she pulled on me the last time, I was beginning to think she was just as sharp and cunning as her mother.
And it filled me with peace and comfort when I had seen just how wrong I had been. It had taken a few words and some tears to make her buckle to my machinations.
