Chapter 135

Kayla

“And… You’re all set!”

The stylist spun the chair around, revealing my reflection to me for the first time all morning. My eyes widened as I took in my appearance, everything from the delicate pearls woven throughout my hair, the subtle gold eyeshadow, the tea-length dress and long, elbow-length white gloves.

“Oh my Goddess,” I breathed, turning this way and that to admit the subtle shimmer whenever my hair moved. “I feel like a princess.”

Emma, who had been snapping pictures the entire time the stylist had been at work, grinned and snapped another. “You look like one, too.”

I couldn’t help but smile back, eliciting one last picture from Emma. I’d been in the styling chair for hours already, ensuring that my hair and makeup looked picture perfect. After all, today we were taking our wedding photos.

The very thought sent a thrill through me. But it was quickly offset by a sudden shoot of pain through my chest.

It wasn’t real. None of this was.

And the way I had accidentally fallen for Nicholas… was just that. An accident. A bad one.

Over the past couple of days, I had distanced myself from him, convincing myself that whatever had happened between us was bound to just cause more trouble than it was worth. And for what? Sex?

No, I couldn’t open myself up like that again. Especially not now.

After he had told me that he wanted to ‘get our wedding over with’ so he could focus on his campaign to become chairman of the guild, my heart had hardened to steel once more. Not that it was entirely his fault, of course.

From the very first time we slept together, I knew what I was getting into. Nicholas was a playboy through and through. Hell, I had known that from the very moment I’d met him in that hotel bar. Before that, even.

Liam had lied about a lot of things, but Nicholas’s reputation with women had been the one truth he had ever told me.

So I kept telling myself that I knew all of this from the beginning, that my decision to sleep with Nicholas on a regular basis was well-informed. That I was an adult woman who had made a choice to have some fun with a man who she could never truly be with.

And thus, I had convinced myself that I was okay with that. That it was… normal for someone of my age. Exciting, even.

But it also had to come to an end. And it was best to put it to an end now, the moment I realized the dangerous territory I was venturing into. We had slept together too much, I figured, and my feelings were getting muddled.

No more. Time to move on.

And yet, now that I saw the perfect picture of a happy, blushing bride staring back at me from that mirror…

The thought of moving on was becoming just a little bit more difficult.

Still, I managed to plaster a smile on my face as I stood from the chair, smoothing down the front of my skirt. “Let’s do this,” I said, turning on my heel and striding out into the main photography area where Nicholas and the photographer were waiting.

When I emerged, Nicholas was standing in front of a dusky blue backdrop, straightening his tie. He glanced up as I approached, and something softened in his eyes. But his smile was all teeth as he said, “There you are. You look…”

“Like a princess,” Emma interrupted, narrowing her eyes at him. “Tell her she looks like a princess.”

I stiffened a little, feeling my cheeks heat. Emma and Jade were both aware of the… discomfort between me and Nicholas. Sometimes, I wondered if they were taking it harder than I was. But at my request, they’d both agreed not to say anything to him about it, although I knew Jade in particular wanted to bite his head off.

Nicholas glanced at Emma almost incredulously, then laughed and shook his head. “I was going to say ‘goddess’, but ‘princess’ works too,” he said. He turned to me and held out his hand, and his voice lowered slightly. “You do look like a princess, Kayla.”

Despite myself, my heart fluttered at his words. I took his hand and joined him in front of the camera, where the photographer was waiting to pose us.

Over the following couple of hours, we took a multitude of pictures, everything from subtle poses flashing the engagement ring to more… intimate ones.

I hadn’t anticipated having to kiss Nicholas in front of the camera, though. I supposed, in a naive sort of way, I’d hoped that we could just skirt around it.

But I felt my knees turn to jelly when the photographer clapped her hands together and said, “Alright, now cozy up and give us a big smooch for the camera!”

Nicholas turned to face me, and his eyes flickered with something indecipherable as he dipped his head toward mine.

I hesitated.

“Something wrong?” Nicholas asked in that low, velvety voice of his. “You seem nervous, even though we’ve kissed a hundred times before.”

My throat tightened, and before I could react, he looped his arm around my waist and tugged me close. Goddess, just the proximity of our bodies was enough to send a current of arousal through me, like lava flooding my veins.

As our lips met, I felt like I might collapse were it not for his sturdy arms supporting me. What was even worse was that we had to hold the pose, our lips lingering delicately on top of one another as the photographer took her shots.

Too long.

Finally, we pulled apart, and I was met with a chuckle from the photographer. “Your face got all red, Luna Kayla,” she giggled. “We can fix it in post, though. Goddess, what I would give to have a relationship that still makes me bashful after the honeymoon phase.”

Before I could answer, Nicholas beamed and said, “We’re still in the honeymoon phase. And I plan on a lifelong vacation, personally.”

The photographer practically swooned, fanning her face dramatically with her hand. I felt too frozen to say much of anything, because I knew it was all fucking bullshit.

Honeymoon phase. We weren’t even together. And it seemed as though Nicholas never even planned on being together.

But I quickly dispelled the thoughts, refusing to let them take root. No. I had made a decision not to be bothered by this, and so I wouldn’t.

After that, I changed out of my wedding dress and let my hair down, and we took the engagement photos. At least those photos were nice and simple, mainly just pictures of our hands intertwined to show off the engagement ring.

Once we were finished, though, I had to admit that my heart had softened ever so slightly. Nicholas was nothing but smiles the entire time, the perfect portrait of a man in love, and it was hard to imagine him as the cold, unfeeling playboy I had built up in my mind recently.

Or so I thought. But the moment the photographer snapped the last engagement picture, Nicholas’s face turned serious once more, as if the act was up. He glanced at his watch and sighed, then reached into his wallet and pulled out a bundle of cash, which he handed to the photographer.

“What’s this?” she asked, furrowing her brow. “You already paid me, didn’t you?”

Nicholas simply shrugged. “It’s extra for you to go over the pictures and have them sent to our wedding planner as soon as possible. The invitations need to be printed by the end of the day.”

All three of us—myself, the photographer, and Emma—stared at Nicholas incredulously.

“But I’ll have to edit them—” the photographer began, but Nicholas just waved his hand.

“The small details don’t matter that much. Just pick the best ones and send them to the email I gave you earlier.”

The photographer blinked, but accepted the money. I felt my heart sink all over again. Everything had to be as fast as possible, didn’t it?

“It’s easier if we just get it over with,” he had said that night in his study.

Of course it was. Easier for him, anyway.

With that, Nicholas excused himself and left. As I watched him go, I felt a strange, uncomfortable sensation settle over me—one that I couldn’t shove down like everything else.

Regret.