Chapter Thirty Eight

I had butterflies. They were forceful, churning my stomach until I felt sick. I barely slept that night—my mind was full of contradictions over whether sticking this thing out with Ivan was the right thing to do. I went back and forward so many times that I was pretty sure I had mental whiplash.

In the end, I decided that it was too late. I was done. I already agreed to see him tonight. I couldn’t back out for a second time. Besides, regardless of the numerous red flags waving like crazy in my mind, I wanted it.

And in the end, that was all it came down to.

My phone buzzed from between the sofa cushions. I dug it out and pulled up a text from Ivan.

I saw Day’s pictures of you.

And?

And you should consider wearing that pink camisole tonight. And by consider, I mean put it on now.

And the stockings?

I’m not a fan of white. It’s too innocent. Tan ones. With thos