Page 15

“Two hundred bucks for this?” she muttered, holding it up like it was a crime against humanity. “It’s barely even a shirt.”

I shook off the tension in my shoulders and smirked, sliding a silk scarf through my fingers. “It’s notallabout practicality, Leah. It’s about how it makes you feel.”

“Broke?”

“Shush. Like I said, you don’t have to buy anything.” I looped the scarf around my neck to test the look in the mirror. “Just enjoy the ambiance.”

“Ah yes, ambiance,” she grumbled, turning her nose up as we passed a rack of velvety garments. “That’s exactly what I’m here for.”

We drifted toward the shoe section, where I found a pair of silvery heels that were practically begging me to take them out for a spin.

I perched on a leather stool, slipping them onto my feet, while Leah flopped into the chair next to me, looking thoroughlyunimpressed. “You always did have a thing for shiny, expensive things.”

I tilted my head, studying her reflection in the mirror as I adjusted the ankle straps. “I like what I like.”

She rolled her eyes and I stuck out my tongue, earning a low chuckle from her in response. It was almost like old times, except there was a tension between us now, a fragile thread that could snap at any moment.

After a few minutes of me parading back and forth in the – rather uncomfortable – heels, Leah met my eyes, mouth hewn in a straight line. Her lips parted and I faltered, dreading whatever impossible question she was about to ask.

“Why didn’t I ever meet your family?”

The question rocked me like a sucker punch, but I masked it with a breezy shrug, toeing the ground. “We’ve talked about this before. They’re… private people.”

“Private?” Leah raised an eyebrow. “That’s one way to put it. You dodged every question I ever asked about them. You still do.”

I focused on the shoes, slipping one off and pretending to inspect the sole. “It wasn’t about you, Leah. My family… they had certain expectations. Certain standards they wanted me to uphold.”

She frowned, leaning back in her chair, blowing her bangs from her eyes. “And I didn’t meet those standards. Is that why you kept me a secret?”

I didn’t answer right away, tipping the shoe back and forth in my hand.

I couldn’t give her the truth, not all of it at least. But I could give her this. “I didn’t want them interfering.” I met her gaze – held it. “Our friendship was ours, and I didn’t want them ruining it.”

Leah’s expression softened, but there was still a flicker of doubt in her eyes. “You could’ve just said that back then, you know.”

That ever present guilt twisted in my chest, suffocating like a too-tight corset, but I forced a small smile, teetering in one heel with my bare foot balanced in the air. “I probably should have.”

She didn’t push further, but I could see the gears turning in her head, slotting this new information in place. As I slipped my own shoes back on I inspected her, the way she slouched in the chair, her fingers tapping idly on the armrest.

She was out of place here, surrounded by luxury she clearly didn’t care for, but she was here anyway. For me.

“Thanks for coming, by the way.” I spoke quietly, a whisper across the chasm between us.

She shrugged, but a small, wry smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t make me regret it.”

It was about an hour of non-stop outfit changes on my part before we eventually left the boutique behind and stepped out into the concourse. My arms were heavy with shopping bags and my heart lighter than it had been in days. That was always the case after a successful shopping spree.

Leah followed close behind, her hands jammed into her jacket pockets, a bemused look plastered across her face.

“You know–” Her eyes flitted across the assortment of bags in my grasp. “If excessive spending was a competition, you’d have it in the bag.”

“Excuse me! There are some truly timeless pieces in here, every one of them a damn necessity if you ask me.”

“I’m sure they are.” Leah snorted. “And nothing says ‘timeless’ like that frilly monstrosity you grabbed.”

“It’s called bold fashion, Leah.” I turned my nose up, strutting ahead of her with my bags jostling on my elbows. “Not that you’d understand, Miss Functional Outerwear.”

We weaved through the crowd, my heels clicking rhythmically against the gleaming floor, blending into the symphony of mall life. My gaze wandered idly, flitting over window displays until something stopped me dead in my tracks.