Page 47

Julian was the first to react. He pushed off the column he’d been leaning against, his eyes locking onto me with startling intensity.

His gaze roamed—unhurried, reverent. He didn’t smile, not at first. Instead, his expression grew thoughtful, like he was seeing a side of me he hadn’t expected and wasn’t quite ready to look away from.

“You’re stunning,” he said, voice low and sincere. I didn’t know what to do with that. My stomach flipped. I could feel the flush creeping into my cheeks, but I held his gaze—just for a second—before I looked down, fingers brushing along the hem of the blouse.

Christopher let out a long, appreciative whistle that broke the silence. “Well, damn. I was expecting cute. Maybe even elegant. But you, sweetheart, are dangerous in that outfit.”

I let out an awkward laugh, tugging at the sleeve, “Too much?”

“Not even close,” he grinned. “It’s just enough.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Miles said from where he was standing near the counter, a caramel in one hand. “He’s dramatic on principle.” But then his gaze softened, more serious than usual. “That color palette suits you. It makes your eyes stand out… and your posture has changed.”

My brow furrowed slightly. “Posture?”

“You’re standing taller,” he said simply. “That’s how I know it’s right.”

I turned a little, catching my own reflection in the angled mirror beside me. He was right—I wasn’t curled in on myself the way I usually was, spine drawn into cautious curves. My shoulders weren’t hunched. I didn’t look like I was apologizing for being visible.

Nicolaus moved forward then, slow and quiet like always. His hands were tucked into his coat pockets, but his attention never wavered. When he finally spoke, his voice was velvet-smooth and grounding.

He nodded a thoughtful smile at the corner of his lips. “You look like you actually like what you are wearing.”

I smiled at him, “I do.” He gave another small smile, and I knew I said the right thing.

“I’ve got a few more things for you to try,” Olivia chimed in gently, stepping in with a second round of pieces folded delicately over her arm. “Think of these as sister pieces to what you’re wearing—same energy, slightly different shapes.”

As I took them, Julian touched my elbow briefly, guiding me to the dressing room again. He didn’t say anything, just held the curtain open and met my eyes with something that felt like quiet pride.

I slipped inside and tried on the next outfit: a lavender blouse with sleeves like petals, paired with deep plum trousers. The blouse dipped into a soft V at the collarbone, fluttering gently every time I moved. It felt soft. Feminine. A little romantic, even.

When I stepped out again, Julian’s lips twitched at the corners. “Lovely,” he said, voice warm with something more intimate this time. “That one’s for evenings.”

Christopher let out a dramatic gasp and flopped back onto the bench like he’d been personally struck. “Is no one going to mention how unfair it is that she looks like a fairytale and I look like an undercooked pancake next to her?”

I covered my face with one hand, laughing.

“You look like a well-dressed liar,” Miles retorted dryly, tossing him a wrapped caramel. “Eat your sugar and behave.”

Even Nicolaus cracked a smile at that, his laughter more in his eyes than on his lips.

As I tried on each outfit, something subtle began to shift inside me.

Olivia didn’t just bring me clothes. She brought me mirrors—versions of myself I hadn’t known how to reach.

Some I rejected quickly—too stiff, too bright, too loud.

Others I lingered in, unsure but intrigued.

I didn’t love everything, but I didn’t hate anything either. Not today.

By the time I came out of the dressing room one last time in my original green dress, I felt… happy. Like I’d taken a small, brave step toward some version of freedom.

Olivia had wrapped up a small collection—four pieces I’d chosen with her help—and tied them with a ribbon the color of soft linen. She pressed the bag into my arms like it was a gift, not a transaction.

“No rush to come back,” she told me, squeezing my hand. “But if you ever feel lost again, remember: you know the way to yourself now.”

I swallowed hard, too thick with emotion to speak. I nodded. Julian appeared at my side again, always there when I needed him but never pushing. His arm slipped around my lower back as we turned toward the exit.

Miles held the door open for us, smiling with quiet approval, “How about we go to the bookstore next? You can pick some new reading material…and maybe some violin music so we can see about getting you started on lessons if you want.”

I felt a flutter of excitement at Miles's suggestion. "Really? The violin?" I couldn't hide my eagerness, thinking back to our conversation about what music felt like ages ago.

"Of course," Miles replied with a warm smile. "You mentioned wanting to learn, and I think it would be wonderful for you."

“I’d like that.” I told them as we went to the car and put the purchases away. Things were looking up and I couldn't wait to see where things went.