Chapter 4

The air in the private nook of the event space was thick, heavy with the lingering scent of expensive perfume, old wood, and the salt spray that always managed to creep in from the open windows. Outside, the Pacific Ocean churned against the base of the lighthouse cliffs, a rhythmic, guttural roar that seemed to vibrate through the soles of my heels and up into my thighs. It was late, the kind of late where the world shrinks down to just two people in a dimly lit corner, far removed from the clinking glasses and polite chatter of the guests who had finally begun to trickle out. The venue was a converted historic hall built into the rock face itself, its walls lined with dark mahogany paneling and shelves of leather-bound books that smelled of vanilla and time. A single, brass standing lamp cast a golden pool of light over the velvet chaise lounge we occupied, leaving the rest of the room in deep, velv shadows. I sat curled into the corner of the sofa, my knees drawn up to my chest, wearing the slip dress he had chosen for me. It was silk, emerald green, clinging to every curve,