Page 117 of When We Ignite

Sebastian stopped mid-conversation when he saw me, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Wow,” he said simply.

Oliver turned toward us, curious.

Heat rushed to my face, and I avoided looking at them, instead focusing on the mirror as the tailor began adjusting the fit.

“I know, I look like a fucking dream,” Henry said, standing beside me. “You know what? I think I’ll have that drink after all,” he added, tugging at his collar.

“It needs a little cinching at the waist, I think,” Sebastian said as he approached Henry.

An attendant handed Henry his drink, which he downed in one go.

Sebastian frowned.

“What about Mr. Bennett?” the tailor asked Sebastian, gesturing toward me.

Sebastian shook his head. “Nothing. He looks perfect. Maybe just check the hem,” he said quickly, glancing at me before turning back to Henry, who was still tugging at his collar.

“Stop that,” Sebastian said, gently swatting Henry’s hands away and adjusting the collar himself.

“I can’t breathe. It’s too fucking tight,” Henry complained as the tailor moved to check it.

“Why are you so fidgety? Stay still,” Sebastian said firmly.

Henry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I just need a drink.”

Sebastian’s gaze flicked to me briefly before stepping closer to Henry. “Are you okay?”

Henry chuckled, but it sounded high and strained. “I’m fucking fine. I just need to loosen this and get another drink,” he said, pressing his lips together.

Oliver stood up, concern etched on his face.

“Maybe I’m getting cold feet,” Henry joked weakly.

“Funny, considering you’re not the one getting married,” Sebastian said dryly. “Can you give us a minute?” he asked the tailor, who nodded and stepped away.

Henry sighed, undoing the button at his throat.

“What’s going on with you?” Oliver asked gently, stepping closer.

Henry looked like he wanted to shrink away from both of them. I’d never seen him like this before. He had been fine a moment ago—drinking a little more than usual, but nothing alarming.

“I broke up with Tara. I need to find another date for your wedding, I guess. Maybe it’s just that. Or this fucking collar is too tight,” Henry said, his tone defensive.

“Henny,” Sebastian said softly.

“I’m fucking fine, Ash,” Henry snapped. “I had too much to drink. I hated the location. The gin was good, and it kept coming. And I told Ethan about Trent, and then...I just started losing count,” he confessed, his voice quieter now.

Both Sebastian and Oliver’s faces paled.

“We’ll reschedule Henry’s fitting,” Oliver said quickly, shooting Sebastian a meaningful look before walking away.

“I’m fine,” Henry insisted again, though his voice cracked slightly.

“Let’s get you out of that suit. I’ll take you home,” Sebastian said, his tone soothing.

“I don’t need to go home,” Henry protested, frowning.

“I know you don’t, but we’ll go anyway. We can have another drink there. How’s that?” Sebastian said, his voice filled with patient kindness.