The silence of my apartment didn't feel empty; it felt heavy, suffocating, and cruel.
It was just past two in the morning when the Torres security driver dropped me off. Amelia had practically forced me into the car, weeping as she begged me to go home, wash the blood off my skin, and change into fresh clothes. I hadn't had the energy to argue.
Now, stepping across the threshold into my quiet living room, the hollowness of the space hit me like a physical blow to the chest. Just hours ago, I had been pacing these exact floorboards, my heart fluttering with a giddy, breathless excitement as I got ready for a fairy tale.
I remembered looking in the mirror, wondering if the emerald gown was too much. I remembered the deep, intoxicating rumble of William's voice through the phone line, promising me that tonight, I was his.
We had talked about how much we were going to enjoy ourselves. We had joked, we had bantered, we had loved.
