Chapter Text
The woman behind the counter looked up as soon as the store door opened, carrying the humid air from the outdoors into the air-conditioned space. Nonetheless, she greets you with her rehearsed smile, watching you stroll up to her with their signature boutique paper bag on top of your suitcase.
“Hello, what can I help you with today?” she asked.
You placed the paper bag on the counter, pulling out the dress you bought the other day. “Uh, I’d like to return these, if that’s possible.”
“Is there a problem with the items?”
You shook your head. “No, I… I’ve just changed my mind.”
“Alright, no problem,” the cashier replied. “Do you still have the receipt?”
“Yes, it's inside the bag,” you handed her the paper bag.
The woman accepted it, carefully extracted the dress, and inspected the item carefully with her fingers and eyes. Then she confirmed the lack of defect and said, "Okay, this is refundable. Just give me a minute to process the return."
You nod your head and wait. The sound of keyboard clicking fills the near silence. You sweep your gaze around: at the mannequins in the display window, at two other customers talking to an employee, at the shelves labeled “SALE” and “NEW ARRIVALS.”
“Here you go.” The cashier’s voice broke through your reverie.
You turned around and collected the refund, muttering a small "thank you." With your hand around your luggage's telescopic handle, you're ready to leave the store and hail a taxi to the airport for your flight in two hours.
However, the "NEW ARRIVALS" sign stares back at you. The memory of that lovely blue dress you passed up burns a hole in the back of your mind.
You abandoned your suitcase, leaving it in the involuntary care of the cashier, and ran your feet to the rack where the dress had once hung. The beautiful blue dress with lace overlay. You began to browse through the garments, your heart skipping a beat every time your hand touched a fabric that wasn't what you were looking for.
“Can I help you with something?”
You nearly jumped out of your skin, whirling around to face the questioner. There stood the same employee who had assisted you the other day. You were beginning to wonder if she remembered you too, when her expression changed to recognition.
“Hello, um…” You say, stammering. Then, you restart your sentence by clearing your throat and ask, “Do you still have that blue dress? The one from the other day?”
“It’s not on the rack.”
“Oh, I see,” you murmured in a tiny voice. “Has it been sold already?”
The employee shakes her head, and the smile you overlooked at first broadens. "No! I mean, I.. I saved it for you, in case you came back. And you did!"
You felt your heart swell in your chest. It was just a beautiful dress in the perfect blue hue, undoubtedly not the only one in the world. It was no haute couture either—but it felt like a glimmer of goodness after years of suffering. You couldn’t put it into words why a simple dress from a boutique in San Francisco had such an effect on you—but the thought of wearing it under the glaring sun, with the dress flowing gracefully around your calves, felt like a small slice of heaven.
“Thank you,” you smile gratefully. “Can I buy it?”
A week later.
The small grains of dust appeared fainter in the weak sunshine that filtered through the window. Outside the apartment, London is cloudy as always, gloomy stratocumulus hanging low and overshadowing the city, but inside your tiny living room, your eyes light up brighter than any Sol. You dust your hands after placing the last remaining book in the box.
The once cluttered space has been transformed, with most of your belongings packed away in boxes lining the hallway. In three days, the moving truck will transport them and the furniture you have chosen to keep to your new residence, and this place will become another one symbolizing a chapter finished and closed.
Your phone rings; you read the caller ID and quickly snatch it up.
“Hello?” you start, listening to the other person speak. "Yeah, of course, it's at 7 p.m., right? Yes, of course I'll be there. I'll meet you there. Bye."
A huff escaped your lips. Then, you made your way to the bathroom, stepped into the shower, cleaned yourself under the warm water, and stepped out of the shower.
After drying off, you stood in front of the mirror, a towel around your damp hair. Carefully, you unwrapped it, scrunching the strands, working the excess moisture out before reaching for the hairdryer. The loud hum of the device filled the space, the hot wind touching your temples as you combed your fingers through your hair.
After doing your hair, your makeup comes next. Once done, you grab the gloss, smearing the product across your lips. Popping your lips, you stare at your reflection. You make your way to the bedroom to get dressed.
“Shit!” You cursed under your breath as you glanced at the clock, realizing it was nearly 6.30 p.m. and you hadn't left the house yet.
You slipped into the blue dress without hesitation. Grabbing a pair of moissanite earrings, you put them on your ears and then hurriedly ran to the hallway to retrieve your heels.
“Oh, right, they’re in the boxes,” you mutter to yourself, rushing straight to the stack of labeled containers. Quickly, you rummaged through the one marked “shoes” and prayed that the black heels you intended to wear tonight were at the very top.
Luckily, they are, which means you won't have to waste any more of your limited time browsing through various shoes. As you stood up, you accidentally knocked your side on the coffee table—something fell to the floor with a clatter. Another curse under your breath before you bend down to inspect the fallen object.
It was the ashtray.
Its now-shattered form is a reminder that it is still present after all this time, despite the fact that you don't smoke. Once, you took a drag of someone else's cigarette and coughed afterwards. The other person warned you that it wasn't healthy for you.
Carefully, you gathered the pieces. You tossed the fragments into the trash.
You grabbed your purse, double-checking that you had your phone, ID, medications (you absolutely have created a bunch of alarms for this), and cards. As you gave yourself one last look in the mirror, you frowned at the sight of your clear, glossy lips. Fully aware that you were running late, you ran to the bathroom for your makeup pouch anyway.
You wiped off the gloss, replacing it with a deep, crimson red lipstick. Taking a look at yourself, you smiled in satisfaction. The bold color is a perfect finishing touch.
With a final glance around the apartment, you walked out of the door. Raising your hand to signal a cab, you motioned for one to slow down before climbing inside it. The vehicle took you to the location where you were scheduled to meet Henri.
“Sorry I’m late!” you breathed the second you found him.
Henri turned to you, shaking his head. “About time you showed up!”
“Is everyone already there?”
“Oui. Everyone but you,” he replied. “The investors are already there too.”
You stopped, eyes widening in alarm. “You're serious?”
A chuckle, then: “Non, non, I’m just teasing you,” he says, laughing even harder as you nearly roll your eyes. “Nice dress, by the way."
Hearing it, you couldn't help but smile underneath your nose.
"Thank you." You replied. The two of you crossed the road together.