Mark Reed cursed silently in his heart.
He really wished he could turn her face around, turn on the light, and take a good, long look.
But it was just a thought. He didn't do it. He enjoyed this moment of peace, watching her quietly, his heart filled with joy, unwilling to wake her, wanting to look a little longer.
In fact, he didn't know that Valentine Teller on the bed wasn't asleep either.
How could she sleep soundly when he was getting married tomorrow?
When his car stopped downstairs, she knew he had arrived, hiding behind the curtains, watching him smoke cigarette after cigarette, feeling something strange and indescribable in her heart.
Coming to see her on the eve of his wedding seemed to perfectly illustrate her importance in his heart. She meant something to him.
But so what if she did? He was still going to marry someone else.
Valentine smiled self-deprecatingly at the invitation on the table. Even in the dim light, the glaring red was still distinguishable.
