The Sinner

“And that is?”

“Love. It’s the only answer.”

Casziel looked grim. “If love is the answer, Lucy Dennings, then we’ve lost already.”

“Why?”

“Because there is no love left in me.”

Seven

The sun was bright and high, yet it felt like a shadow had dropped over me. We’d arrived at Macy’s and Casziel headed for the men’s department. I hurried to keep up and joined him at a table where he stood examining ties.

“What did you mean, there is no love left in you?”

“I meant exactly what I said.” He held up a black silk tie. “This.”

“That is eighty dollars,” I said. “Casziel—”

I stopped short and gasped. On our walk, he’d taken off the jacket, revealing arms of drool-worthy perfection, scars and all. But now I noticed a thin gash on the inside of his wrist, like a tally mark.

I grabbed his arm, examining the cut. It had been cauterized, the edges of it blackened and burned. “This is new. From last night?”

Casziel withdrew from my grasp. “It’s nothing.”

“Cas—”

“Have you not seen my scars?” he asked with a slight edge to his tone. “What’s one more?”

“Did you do this to yourself?” I asked in a small voice.

“In a manner of speaking,” he muttered, perusing men’s dress shirts. “Don’t you have business in this store?”

“Well, yes. My boss is getting married this weekend. We all have to go.”

“And that’s a chore?” Casziel said, not looking at me. His words dripped with bitterness. “If memory serves, weddings are joyous occasions.”

“Social gatherings with a lot of people aren’t my thing.”

“As we’ve established. Go, Lucy Dennings. Find your dress.”

I bit my lip. “Cas…”

“Go.”

He turned his back on me, and I had no choice but to head to the women’s department and put his wound out of my mind. For now.

I found a pretty sundress in lavender with little green and pink flowers. It was perfect for an outdoor wedding in Central Park. Simple, with an empire waist that made me feel like Daphne Bridgerton.

Or maybe Penelope. And Guy is my Colin.

The thought made me feel a tad bit better about having to go to this wedding. I’d been dreading it for weeks, even though I loved my boss. Kimberly Paul was fun and kind, and her face lit up every time she mentioned her fiancée, Nylah. Their wedding was going to be perfect and romantic, set at the Central Park Boathouse with views of The Lake. But for me, it would be like any work function: hours of smiling and walking around as if I had somewhere to go instead of sitting in one place, alone. Jana Gill, from the accounting department, would try to include me in her group, but after a little small talk, I’d fall into awkward silence and drift away before anyone asked about my plus-one. Or lack thereof.

Casziel could be my plus-one.

I giggled at the thought. If Guy were Colin, then Casziel was the Duke of Hastings. God, I could just see the looks on everyone’s faces that the handsome man with the gorgeous amber eyes had come with me.

A clerk rang me up and bagged the dress. I returned to the men’s department to find Casziel waiting impatiently with a saleswoman who couldn’t stop making eyes at him. He had changed into a new pair of black jeans, a tight black T-shirt, and a lightweight black leather jacket.