Chapter B
The mall buzzes with Bife–couples stroll hand in hand, children laugh as they rug on their parents‘ sleeves, and the faint hams of pop musk plays over the speakers, it’s chaotic
but oddly soothing,
Harry and I walk side by side, his hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket
“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” I say, glancing at him.
“Do what?” he asks, feigning innocence.
“Take me shopping,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “I could’ve worn something I already have.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Aria, you’re going to an awards show with me. It’s not just any night–it’s the night. You deserve to wear something that makes you feel like a
I sigh, biting back a smile. “Fine But nothing too extravagant, okay?”
Harry grins “Deal Bot no promises.”
We step into a boutique filled with racks of elegant dresses. My eyes immediately go to the price tags, and my stomach chorns.
“Harry, these are–”
“Perfect,” he interrupts, pulling a deep emerald gown from the rack. “Try this one.”
I hesitate, but his expression leaves no room for argument. I take the dress and make my way to the fitting room.
When I step out, Harry’s jaw drops.
“Wow,” he says lowly, not taking his eyes off me.
It’s like he’s just seen an angel from paradise, or perhaps a goddess. And I think I like that.
“You look incredible.”
I turn to the mirror, my reflection catching me off guard.
The dress hugs my figure perfectly, the color bringing out the green flecks in my hazel eyes.
“I don’t know,” I say, fidgeting “It feels a little too much.”
“Aria,” Harry says, stepping closer. “You look breathtaking, Trust me on this.”
Before I can respond, a familiar voice oops up, ruining the scene.
“Aria.”
I turn, my stomach sinking as Brandon walks toward us. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a fitted sweater, but there’s nothing casual about the intensity in his gaze. “What are you doing here?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“Shopping,” he says smoothly, his eyes scanning the dress I’m wearing. “That looks amazing on you.”
“Thanks,” I tell him stiffly, glancing at Harry.
Brandon’s eyes flick to him, his jaw tightening “Harry,” he says curtly.
“Brandon,” Harry replies, his tone equally cold.
The hate between them is pretty clear, and I sigh, stepping between them, before something crazy happens.
I don’t want to be responsible for any damages here.
“I’m not doing this right now,” I say. “Let’s just-”
“Wait,” Brandon interrupts, holding up a hand. “Before you say anything, I want to do something for you, Aria.”
He turns to the sales associate, who has been watching the scene unfold with wide eyes.
“Bring me your best gowns,” he says.
“Brandon, stop,” I say immediately, giving him a hard face.
But he ignores me, his focus entirely on the sales associate.
Within minutes, she returns with an armful of stunning dresses–each one more extravagant than the last.
“Try these,” Brandon says, holding one out to me.
“No.” I shake my head, definitely not going with that.
“Aria, please,” he says, his voice softening. “I just want to see you happy.”
“This isn’t about me being happy,” I snap. “This is about you trying to win me back, and it’s not going to work.”
Brandon’s expression falters, but he quickly recovers. “I’m not trying to win you back. I’m just —”
“You’re just what?” I cut in. “Trying to prove something? Trying to make up for everything you’ve done with a bunch of expensive dresses?”
“Aria,” he starts, but I shake my head.
“No, Brandon. I’m done. I’m moving on,” I say, glancing at Harry. “With someone who actually cares about me.”
Brandon’s eyes darken, but he doesn’t say anything
“Come on, Harry,” I say, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go.”
Harry shoots Brandon a pointed look before following me out of the store.
Chapter 8
In the car, I let out a heavy sigh, leaning my head against the seat.
“You okay?” Harry asks, glancing at me.
“Yeah,” I respond, nodding though my voice wavers.
“It’s just exhausting, you know? Every time I feel like I’m finally moving on, Brandon shows up and drags me back into the past.”
Harry reaches over, his hand brushing against mine.
“You’re stronger than you think, Aria. Don’t let him pull you down.”
I look at him, my chest tightening at the sincerity in his gaze.
“Thank you, Harry. For everything.”
“Always,” he says, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.
The city lights blur past the window, and I don’t know, I can’t really tell. It’s just that I feel a strange sense of peace.
It can’t be denied. It’s very clear at this point. I’m where I’m meant to be.
