And then she's right in front of me.
And I see her face.
Really see it. Without the veil. Without the distance of the altar between us.
Her eyes are green.
Not just green. The green of summer leaves. Of emeralds. Of something alive and burning. They're too big for her face. Too bright.
Her lips are parted. Full. Pink. The bottom one slightly fuller than the top.
There's a beauty mark above the left corner of her mouth.
She's not pretty.
Pretty is the wrong word. Pretty is too small. Too ordinary.
She's—
Angel.
The word surfaces from somewhere deep. Somewhere I thought I'd buried. She looks like something that doesn't belong in my world. Something soft and bright that wandered into the darkness by mistake.
"Bruno." Her voice drops. Quieter now. Confused. "What are you doing?"
I can't answer.
I can't think.
I can't do anything except stare at her face like I've never seen a woman before. Like she's the first one. The only one.
Her brow furrows. Those green eyes search mine. Looking for something. An explanation. A reason.
I have nothing to give her.
"You need to leave." She says it slowly. Carefully. Like she's talking to someone who might not understand. "Now."
She reaches past me.
Her arm brushes my shoulder. Bare skin against my suit jacket. Electric.
And then the door slams in my face.
I blink.
Once.
Twice.
The hallway is dark. Empty. The strip of light under her door mocks me.
What the hell just happened?
I came here to establish control. To remind her who she's dealing with. To make her understand that hanging up on me has consequences.
Instead I sat there like a statue while she yelled at me. While she walked toward me half-naked. While she closed the door in my face like I was nothing.
My hands are shaking.