#Chapter 38: Damage Control
DEREK
I could still feel her.
It was maddening—how her scent clung to my skin like a phantom, how the weight of her hand in mine lingered long after the music stopped. Even now, in the still quiet of my bedroom, I could feel the way her fingers had curled instinctively around mine during that slow, ridiculous dance.
I could hear the uneven hitch of her breath when I’d pulled her closer. Could see the way she’d looked up at me like she wanted to trust me—just for a second—but didn’t dare.
I lay back against the headboard, bare-chested, hair still damp from the shower, staring at the ceiling like it had answers.
She hated me. Or wanted to. I wasn’t sure there was a difference anymore. But for those few minutes, under the soft shimmer of wedding lights, it hadn’t mattered.
She’d melted into my embrace on the dance floor. I felt it. For a few glorious minutes…
I could even now hear the soft strum of the guitar, the low tenor of the singer’s voice.
Love struck Romeo, sang

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