Chapter 34 - Waiting for Saturday
Thursday - Two Days Before the Wedding
Sarah’s POV
The week moved like syrup. Each day thick and heavy, refusing to end.
The kids were buried in school projects and spent most nights at their grandparents’ house.
Since Matt moved away, my parents had stepped in more; school pickups, weekend dinners, the kind of small rescues that filled the gaps he and I left behind.
My thoughts often wandered to memories of my parents with my children playing, cooking together, or just something as simple as snuggling.
The intensity of how whole that made me feel often brought tears to my eyes. Happy tears.
Today, the silence felt unfamiliar.
I worked through emails, folded laundry, even tried to read, but nothing held. Every distraction dissolved back into memories of Eli. The hotel room. His hands. The way his voice dropped when he said my name.
A knock at the door startled me. A courier stood on the porch holding a silver-wrapped box and a clipboard. “Delivery for Sarah Taylor,” he said with a professional smile.
The card was small and cream-colored. His handwriting was neat, deliberate.
For Saturday night. –Eli
The box was heavier than I expected. Inside, layers of ivory tissue revealed a dress the color of soft champagne, something between light and warmth. The silk slipped through my fingers with a quiet grace, fluid and cool.
It was sleeveless, with a modest neckline that skimmed my collarbone and a fitted bodice that eased into a gentle drape at the hips. This was formal tailoring that respected the body without begging for attention.
I ran my hand over the fabric, feeling the fine weave catch against my skin. The shoes were strappy, pale gold, the kind that made a woman’s legs look longer without effort. The jewelry came last, a diamond pendant so simple it bordered on arrogance.
I stared at it all, quietly undone.
Who sends Dior for a weekend?
I didn’t even know whose wedding this was. And I was going dressed in Dior. It had to be someone important. Maybe a partner, maybe a client. Whoever it was, it mattered to him. That thought sent a small, electric thrill through me.
My phone lit up on the counter.
Eli: I hope you love them, beautiful. Bring an overnight bag for Saturday night. I have missed you terribly.
A smile crept in before I could stop it, the kind that comes when someone makes you feel chosen on purpose.
I didn’t know what this was with Eli, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Zoning out at work, fantasizing about him in bed at night. I wasn’t sure I was ready for this.
Is it Saturday yet?
Matt’s POV
Julianne laughed as she searched the room for her missing panties. Her hair was a mess, her skin still glowing from our morning sex. I watched from the bed, too lazy to move, content just to watch her move around my room like she already belonged there.
She froze mid-step and looked up. “Found them.”
They were hanging from the top of the door, exactly where I’d tossed them hours ago. She shook her head, grinning. “You have a terrible aim, Taylor.”
I smirked. “Worked out fine for me.”
She slipped them on, still smiling as she looked over at me. “I have to go shopping for a dress for the wedding Saturday.”
“Do you even know who’s getting married?” I asked.
“The daughter of one of my main donors,” she said easily. “Someone I’ve known for years.”
That caught my attention. A donor meant money, influence, connections. If this wedding gave me a chance to make a good impression, I’d be ready. I’d stay sharp and make her proud to have me on her arm.
I didn’t press for names. It didn’t seem important. Weddings weren’t about who was walking down the aisle, just who you were walking in with.
“Text me when you find one,” I said. “I leave for my flight to Chicago in two hours. Let me know when and where you want to meet on Saturday.”
She came back to the bed and gave me a long kiss. When she pulled away, her fingers lingered at my jaw.
“Try not to miss me too much,” she said.
“No promises.”
She laughed, grabbed her purse, and left. The door clicked shut, and the room went quiet.
Four nights with her had made the place feel different. Now it was just me and a cooling pillow.
I was going to miss her.
Julianne was great. Easy to be around, easy to want. The last thing I needed right now was another serious relationship, but maybe it was time to stop overthinking everything and just see where it went.
I needed Saturday to hurry up.
Elliott’s POV
The dark circles under my eyes betrayed me before I even looked in the mirror. I hadn’t slept properly since that night with Sarah. When Crow drove her home the next morning, he came back with a quiet observation.
“She called you Mr. Thompson.”
I wasn’t ready to tell her about Elliott Thompson. I needed a little more time as Eli.
I told her I’d be out of town all week, which wasn’t entirely untrue. I had meetings, but none far enough to justify silence. The lie gave me space. What I hadn’t expected was how empty that space would feel.
A final tug at my tie, a slow exhale, and I left the sanctuary of my suite.
Downstairs, Lily stood in the center of the living room like a porcelain queen, elevated on a pedestal while the seamstress adjusted the hem of her wedding gown. The fabric shimmered under the light, pure ivory, far too innocent for her.
“Lily,” I said, circling her like an appraiser at an auction, “you are stunning.”
She barely looked up.
“Are you really going to make me go through with this?”
Her eyes found mine in the mirror’s reflection, sharp and weary all at once.
“How many times do we have to go over this, Lilyth?” I said, my voice low. “The only way out of this is to go back to jail.”
She turned away and snapped, “Any day now,” to the seamstress, who flinched at her harshness.
I shook my head and started for the door. “You really do look beautiful in that dress,” I said quietly. “It’s just a dress, but on you, it’s something to marvel at.”
“Whatever,” she muttered as I left.
I lingered in the quiet, letting the air settle. I hadn’t intended to become obsessed with Sarah. But she was different, steady where others performed, sincere without knowing how rare that was.
This wedding would fix everything. It would show her that Lily was contained, that Matt had moved on, that she was free to explore this attraction without guilt.
Everyone would get what they wanted. Julianne truly liked Matt, and there was a genuine connection forming there.
Sean wanted Lily, and despite everything, I believed he could keep her safe.
Lily needed stability and this marriage in order to maintain her freedom.
I would finally get what I wanted too. Sarah. Finding her in this mess felt like serendipity disguised as strategy.
In my office, the air smelled like coffee. Sean was already sitting on the couch, legs stretched out, looking far too comfortable for a man about to inherit a problem.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet,” I said, closing the door behind me.
He chuckled. “No, but I’ve got my work cut out for me. You want to hear what she pulled last weekend?”
I raised an eyebrow, pretending interest. “Go on.”
“After our date, we went to a bar for a few drinks. She wanted to stay out longer, and I didn’t mind.
I thought things were going well. She had been engaged the entire night.
She got up to go to the ladies' room. I thought it was normal until I found her at the bar flirting with some guy, had him convinced she’d leave with him.
I had to threaten his life before he got the message. ”
I chuckled lightly, “In a few days, she’ll be your wife. Think you can handle her?”
Sean poured himself another cup of coffee and leaned against my desk. “Saturday can’t get here fast enough.”
He had no idea how right he was.
For both of us.
With all obstacles removed, Sarah would be mine.
Saturday couldn’t get here fast enough either.
Lily’s POV
The dress sucked ass. It was big and gaudy and weighed as much as I did.
I’d been standing in front of this mirror so long it felt like the seamstress could’ve spun the thread herself, one punishment loop at a time.
The fabric clung where it shouldn’t, and the bodice pinched like it had something personal against me.
Poor Sean. He really thought this wedding was happening. He’d been counting down to Saturday like it was salvation. It wasn’t. I’d burn the church down before I said I do.
Lately, though, he’d made it harder to hate him. He’d stopped trying so hard to control me. Started watching instead, really watching. There was something in the way he stood close but not too close, or how his voice shifted when he spoke to me, lower, smoother, careful.
When he talked, I found myself staring at his mouth. The curve of it, the power of his words, the promise behind both. He didn’t even have to touch me for my pulse to remind me what I’d tried to forget.
He was winning me over, and I couldn’t decide if that made him dangerous or just smart.
It had been getting harder not to give in. Harder not to imagine what it would feel like to crawl into his arms and stay there, just for a moment, before the world came apart again. But Sean wasn’t safety. He was the reason I was standing in this dress, pretending to be something I wasn’t.
He was still the enemy.
And no matter how good he looked doing it, I couldn’t afford to forget that.
It was a shame he didn’t see how wrong all of this was.