I was packing my suitcase at midnight when the knock came.
Soft, hesitant, barely audible over the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below my balcony. I froze, my hands full of bridesmaid dress and borrowed jewelry.
Another knock, more insistent this time.
I tiptoed to the door and peered through the peephole. Damien stood in the hallway, still in his tuxedo pants and white dress shirt, but his jacket was gone and his collar was open. He looked rumpled, exhausted, and somehow more real than I'd seen him all weekend.
I opened the door before I could think better of it.
"Hi," he said quietly.
"Hi." I was acutely aware that I was wearing yoga pants and an old t-shirt, my hair pulled back in a messy bun. "Shouldn't you be... I don't know, having your wedding night?"
Something f
