“Your mother had sent the invitation with photos. I had noted how painstakingly beautiful you were growing up to be. Serena blew up on me, calling me a pervert and disgusting,” Jaime swallows, his eyes roaming over my face, “She was right. Weeks passed, and she refused to let me touch her… I had a little to drink, and that was the first night I fantasized about you. The photo of you halfway out of the lake in the white dress… It had stirred a longing in me.”
