The Vows We Fake
'"Tell me what you want, Amara,” Zane said, voice like silk over fire. His lips were a whisper from mine. I could feel the tension in his body. The restraint. The raw, maddening awareness. He dragged a finger down my cheek. “To be touched? Or to be remembered?”
I stared at him. “Neither. I just want you gone.”
“You don’t mean that,” he said, leaning in just a fraction closer.
“I do,” I lied.
His breath fanned my lips. His nose grazed mine. I felt every inch of my body coil, traitorous and trembling. I wanted him to kiss me. But it would be wrong. He was engaged to someone else.'
***
He is the bridegroom. She is the wedding planner. He doesn’t seem to remember her. Or so he says.
Fi
Bab Populer