Embers of Starlight by Sonia de Leon

Author:Sonia de Leon [Leon, Sonia De]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Suspense
Goodreads: 23500224
Published: 2015-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

WARM LIPS PRESS AGAINST the back of my neck, as my husband opens the tiny crystal buttons at the back of my dress one by one. He curses softly as he fumbles with them, and I laugh.

Candles form a line on the shelf behind our bed, casting a warm, sensual glow around the room. There are no shades to cover the windows, so I hope there aren't any late night hikers somewhere on the mountain, or they're in for a show.

After I step out of my dress, I help him undress. This is really happening. Even though I'm not a virgin, I'm nervous. It's been a year since . . . nope, not going back to that memory again. I refuse to think about another man on my wedding night.

I pull Adrian to me, hoping to drown out and mute the dangerous pull of my thoughts and dreams. We kiss for a long time, but my brain doesn't shut down like I hoped would happen. It never does with him. And there I go again. Shut up, stupid brain!

Our marriage consummation is over with quickly, and it's strangely devoid of emotion. After all is done, I lie silent, and pull the sheet up to my chin. Adrian leaves the bed and walks to the bathroom to clean up. I hear the shower turn on, and I release the breath I wasn't even aware I was holding. My expectations were too high, and it was somewhat rough, like he had no care whether I got pleasure.

I swing my legs to the side of the bed, then step onto the gray carpet. My phone has been in my bag for the entire day, and I need to make sure I haven't gotten any calls from my mom’s care home. One missed call, one voicemail. I quickly check the voicemail, not bothering to check the call log first. I nearly drop the phone when I hear the voice.

“It's me. I know you're getting married tomorrow, and I'm sorry I haven't called or texted. I've been thinking a lot over the past year—this is so stupid,” he mutters softly. “Don't do it. Don't marry him. Just . . . call me, okay?”

I check the timestamp. An hour ago. My phone vibrates in my hand. It's Sam again. There is no way I can answer his call with my husband in the adjoining bathroom, so I press ignore and wait for a voicemail to pop up. Within a minute, I begin listening.

“I'm . . . I was confused about the date. It's already done, isn't it? Damnit . . . ” There is silence for a few moments. When he does speak, his voice is thick. “I hope your life is filled with happiness, Pop Rocks.”

After turning off my phone, I drop it in my bag. I want to scream. I want to break something. My hands are shaking, so I run them through my hair then grip onto my roots.

Disbelief is quickly replaced by anger.

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