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I’m standing staring at myself in the mirror, nerves eating away at me and fidgeting with my dress a little obsessively. It’s long, fitted, ivory, and very classy. A sleek, full-length, fishtailed number that looks great on my body, with my toned-down neutral face and minimal jewellery. Stomach in knots and anally checking my appearance like my life depends on it. Despite knowing, I look flawless.
Déjà vu from the morning I met his mother and yet this is way worse. I’m terrified.
“You look gorgeous, stop fretting.” Alexi’s voice comes from behind me and he sways to the side of me as he approaches. I stop him mid-step and lean my body against him gently. Backing myself against him. This is something I have been working on for a while now. Letting Alexi get behind me, touch me when standing there and leaning against him. He doesn’t object, just stands still recognising my attempt and lets me fall back against him gently.
It’s stupid and weird, I guess, that it’
L.T.Marshall(author note - there will be future Carrero books, so always check back)
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