"We shouldn't have done that," he murmurs as he buttons up his shirt.
"No," she agrees firmly, but she knows his words are false.
"We can't do that again…" he mutters and fixes his bowtie in the mirror, and she watches him with her arms folded across her chest. "This has gone on far too long."
She sighs inwardly. This is not a new conversation; and they both know it's going to end exactly as it has a hundred times before. But, nevertheless, she nods to give his fragile soul some reassurance. He needs it.
He picks up one of her heels from the floor and hands it to her, "You need help?"
"Please," she replies softly, and his hands move to her back. His touch is cold against her skin as his fingers brush over it, zipping the back of her dress up; and although he's done this countless times before it doesn't fail to make her hairs stand on end.
She mumbles an inaudible 'thanks', slipping into her heels, before standing up straight. Her eyes lock on his and catch him off-guard. He's gazing down at her with the kind of look she hasn't seen in a long time. It only lasts a moment, but it's long enough to give her the hope she needs and to make her stomach erupt with butterflies.
She swallows quickly just as he sighs.
"I-I guess I'll see you at dinner," he says quietly. She nods, and he mirrors the action before leaning in and pressing an awkward kiss to her cheek. She smiles softly and hopes it looks genuine. Thankfully, he seems to buy it, and shoots her a small grin over his shoulder as he leaves.
Upon the door swinging shut, she leans her head against it and sighs. He'd be back. He'd be back just as her confidence would begin to return, and he'd shatter it all again and land her right back to square one. Back to square one; full of secrets, lies, and affairs with uncles.