His heart slammed against his ribs so violently he sat upright at once, cold sweat forming on his forehead.
"Sh*t…" The curse left him like a broken whisper.
He had not called me yesterday. Not even to give me a heads-up about his extended bachelor's party. Not a single message to check in, not even to confirm if everything was fine.
He had thought he would have enough time to talk to me at night. Who would have thought that he would not even have time to go home since he had been too drunk?
He rubbed his temples, panic clawing at his chest.
His eyes darted to the chair where he had tossed his clothes, but nothing there looked fitting for the ceremony. There was only a crumpled shirt and jeans. Both even smelled of liquor.
His suit, his shoes, and everything he needed for the wedding were at the other hotel where the preparations were held.
Kael cursed again and stood, rifling through the closet with trembling hands. He tried to look for something to wear, at least decent enough to attend his own wedding.
"Why are there only pajamas and bathrobes here? I can't wear these."
His movements were frantic, tugging hangers one by one. The pounding of his heartbeat was louder than the persistent ringing of his phone in the background.
The sound gnawed at him until he could no longer ignore it. He snatched the phone off the dresser, ready to shut it up, when movement beside him caught his eye.
"Kael…" Lyandra's voice was soft, husky from sleep, curling like smoke around him.
She slid from under the sheets, her skin pale and glowing, her hair messy in the kind of way magazines tried to capture but never quite succeeded.
The blanket clung to her curves, slipping dangerously as she reached for him, her hand brushing along his arm.
"Come back," she murmured, clinging coquettishly, her lips pulling into a lazy smile. "I'm tired… Let's sleep more. You don't have to rush. It's only… an event. Nothing important."
Kael froze.
The ringing continued, shrill, but all he heard now was her voice and its playfulness, its dangerous sweetness. He turned his head to really look at her, and that was when his stomach turned to stone.
There were marks.
Red, intimate marks trailing down her neck, on her shoulders, on her thighs barely covered by the sheet.
Marks he recognized, because he had put them there.
The sight hit him like ice water. His mouth went dry. His lungs forgot how to breathe.
He staggered back a step, cold crawling across his skin, and shoved Lyandra's hand away with more force than he intended.
She gasped softly, blinking as if she couldn't believe it.
"Kael?" Her voice cracked with grievance. "Why did you push me away?"
Kael's jaw clenched until it hurt.
"Because it's my wedding day, Lyandra," he snapped, his voice sharp, cutting through the air. "My OWN wedding. How could you say it's not important?"
She bit her lip, her expression shifting instantly, the corners of her eyes misting as though tears would fall. She looked pitiful, fragile, as though he had struck her instead of just rejecting her touch.
But Kael did not fall for it.
He turned his back on her, dragging on the only suit jacket he could find even if it didn't match. He bent to yank on his shoes, fingers trembling as he tied the laces with clumsy haste.
Behind him, the bed creaked.
"So you're really going?" Lyandra's voice wavered, edged with panic now.
Kael didn't answer. He shoved one arm through his sleeve, reaching for his watch.
"You'll leave me here, alone?" she pressed, her voice rising as her desperation broke through her carefully constructed innocence. "After… after what happened last night?"
Kael froze.
Her words slashed through his mind, ripping open the haze he had tried not to think about. His head turned slowly, his eyes landing on her sitting there with the sheets wrapped tightly around her, her wide eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"You can't," she whispered, hugging herself. "You can't just leave like this. Not after last night."
He stared at her, heart hammering, throat closing. "Lyandra…"
She shifted, letting the blanket slip further down her shoulder, baring the faintest glimpse of the red marks again.
"It was my first time," she said softly, almost brokenly, though her eyes shone with something more cunning than grief. "I gave it to you, Kael. How can you… how can you just walk away from me like it meant nothing?"
Kael staggered a step back.
He remembered me. He truly loved me. If not, how could our relationship have lasted this long? Yet he could no longer crave my touch, as if it were something he had long grown bored with.
And then here was Lyandra, staring at him with that mixture of vulnerability and manipulation, tethering him with invisible chains.
"Don't say that," he growled under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.
"It's true," she pressed on, voice trembling as if the weight of the world sat on her shoulders. "You held me, Kael. You touched me like I was yours. And now… what? You'll just leave me as if I'm nothing? As if I didn't matter at all?"
"Stop it," he snapped, his voice breaking with strain. "Just. Stop."
But she didn't. She pushed further, leaning forward, her tone a perfect mix of broken and alluring.
"Do you know how much it hurts? To give everything and be left behind like some… some mistake? If you walk out that door, Kael, what am I supposed to be? Who am I supposed to be?"
His hands shook as he jammed the last shoe onto his foot, his chest tightening until he could barely breathe.
"This… this was a mistake," he muttered hoarsely, more to himself than to her.
Her face crumpled, though the sheen in her eyes was sharp enough to cut glass.
"So, I'm a mistake now? You'll regret saying that, Kael. You will."
He looked at her one last time, torn between guilt and fury and sheer horror, before tearing his gaze away and storming toward the door. His movements were clumsy, frantic, almost violent as he grabbed his keys and shoved his phone into his pocket.
Lyandra's voice rang out behind him, sharp with desperation. "Kael! If you leave me like this, you'll regret it for the rest of your life!"
Her words chased him as he slammed the door shut, his breath ragged, his hands numb.
