I was in the changing room of a high-end clothing boutique. Christian was choosing clothes for me. This time, he was buying me a dress. The frock I was trying on was pink blush with thousands of sequins and feathered material in the skirt. The price tag read that it was forty-six thousand dollars, but I was choosing a dress to wear to an important event, so the price tag didn’t matter.

I parted the curtain of the changing room and stepped out into the open. It was the most luxurious clothing store I had ever been in. Sunlight came into the room from a skylight and reflected on the mirrors that surrounded me, giving me a perfect view of what I looked like in the dress. 

Christian entered the room with a steady stride holding a white dress that could only be a wedding dress. For once, his face was not a disguise. His nose was so pointed, he looked like all his lies had caught up with him. His hair was blond and spiked like he still wanted to do his hair like Rogan. With his characteristic careless smile, he asked me to try the dress on.

I took it from him, smiling too because I couldn’t help it. “You want me to try this on?” I took the dress from him and examined its folds. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

His expression changed to the smirk that dared me to be different. “I’m asking you to try it on.” He took a step back from me and leaned against the doorframe.

I turned my back on him and was about to slip behind the curtain when his voice stopped me.

“You don’t need to hide.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, you don’t need to hide.” He looked at me with eyes that were both patient and curious. He sought to test my limits. 

“I don’t want the shop girls to see me,” I replied smoothly.

“I wouldn’t worry about them,” he said. “They’ve seen women without their clothes. They’re dressmakers. Besides, they’re too busy to bother popping in here. We’re alone. It’s fine. Take your clothes off.”

I was uncomfortable, but I didn’t like to balk. I wanted to marry him. I had told him so. Certainly, I had meant it. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I undid the concealed zipper in the side of the blush gown and allowed it to fall to the floor. Standing there in my bra and panties, I reached for the wedding gown.

Christian was smiling at me, but it wasn’t a smile I had seen lately. It was a smile reserved for when he placated an innocent child. I was the child in this scenario.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“This isn’t what I meant when I asked you to show yourself to me.”

I hesitated.

He cleared his throat and clarified. “I meant for you to strip, not down to your underwear, but down to the bone.”

Glancing at one of the many mirrors that faced me, I now saw the skin above my breasts was gone and I was staring at my bare ribcage, and the heart inside me pulsed behind ribs like prison bars.

My panic was interfering with my judgment. The grin that played on Christian’s face was one I’d never seen before.

What did a smile like that mean? It wasn’t the smile he wore when he dared me to be something more. It wasn’t the smile he wore when he said goodbye. What was that expression? Was it pride? 

My hands reached for my chest, but I could feel nothing as I tried to slide my fingers between my ribs, feeling for his heart inside me like I was reaching for a star—nothing I could hold in my hands.