25

Rita stood in the center of the bedroom, the train of her wedding dress not yet fully gathered, layers of lace sweeping over her ankles. She reached up to unhook the necklace at the back of her neck, her fingertips failing to catch the clasp several times. “Let me do it.” Lester’s voice came from behind her, carrying the warmth of freshly bathed skin. His long fingers easily grasped the small clasp, and the cool tip of his finger inadvertently brushed against her neck. Rita’s spine tensed imperceptibly, and her breath caught for half a second. She could smell the faint scent of his shower gel, mixed with a hint of champagne, winding around her like a vine. “Lester, there's a question I've wanted to ask for a long time.” As she turned around, the train of her wedding dress brushed against his calf, the soft touch causing Lester's Adam's apple to bob. “Hmm.” He replied softly, his voice slightly hoarse. Rita looked up at him, the light from the crystal chandelier reflecting in