Page 121 of I Choose You

Anxiety gripped me, and before my fingers shook so badly that I dropped my flute, I set it down. Using both hands, I made sure it was steady on the closest table.

I looked up, finding Kody staring at me from across the table. He said not a word, looking at my clumsy fingers that wouldn’t stop trembling.

Shit. He’d say something. He’d crack a joke. Or something. I couldn’t take it.

I stepped back, almost knocking into a potted plant that probably cost more than my rent. Catching the ceramic container, I made sure it wouldn’t fall, then picked up my speed. I hurried inside, frantically trying to remember where a bathroom was.

I just needed to hide. Only for a moment.

“If you’re looking for the restroom, it’s down there,” a bridesmaid said as she pointed down the hall.

I nodded my thanks and ran for it.

Once I found it, which wasn’t anywhere in the direction she’d pointed, I closed the door and locked it. Leaning my back against the panel, I drew in short breaths and tried to calm the fuck down.

Just breathe. Deep breaths. I swallowed hard and pushed off the door, feeling too antsy to stay still. I just needed a breather. A chance to regroup. Then I could go out there, tough it out, and hopefully ask Kaden if I could leave. I didn’t see why I couldn’t. If he didn’t want to be near me, then what was the point of any of this?

I paced, trying to shake off the swarm of heavy feelings. Each time I passed the mirror though, it called to me. It taunted me to look and see.

I stopped, leaning my hands on the sink to peer at my reflection.

I stared, zoning out as I tried to calm down with another pep talk.

I’m more than my looks.

I winced, wondering why I looked so wan. The orange lights made me look hideous.

I’m more than my looks.

I drew in a deep breath.

I’m more—I’m a self-made woman.

I tugged at my collar, wishing the edge of the fabric wasn’t as frayed.

I’m a self-made woman.

I remembered the price tag, feeling like a fraud for even trying it on.

I sniffled, resisting the burn of tears. “Dammit.” I blinked quickly.

I’m worthy.

I’m kind.

I’m loved.

A strand of hair slipped out of the once-sleek ponytail I’d spent an hour perfecting this morning.

Knocks sounded on the door, jarring me. I hoped I didn’t actually gasp out loud.

I froze, my skin tingling as I panicked.

Another knock.

Shit. I swallowed and stared at the door. There’s got to be twenty fucking bathrooms in this mansion. You have to pick this one? “Please go.”

“Brooke?”