There was something about the way she spoke—straight to the point, with no layers, no fake politeness—that stuck with Xavier.
Most people danced around him, careful with their words, always considering his last name before they said anything. But Amara didn't care about that. She didn't lower her voice, didn't soften her words to make him feel comfortable. She just spoke.
And somehow, that was what pulled him in.
He thought about their conversation as he sat behind the wheel, the fabric sample still resting on the passenger seat where he'd tossed it. He didn't even know why he'd kept it. Maybe it was the small smudge from her thumb that made it feel less like a product and more like a piece of something real.
She didn't talk to me like I was rich.
She talked to me like I was just… a person.
It was weird how much that mattered to him.
His fiancée, Lilian, didn't come with him. She was supposed to. He'd asked her—more than once. But she always had a reason not to. Work. Headache. Too tired. Something.
Eventually, he stopped asking.
It wasn't like Lilian didn't care. She was sweet. She laughed at his jokes, knew how he liked his coffee. He genuinely liked her. Maybe even loved her.
But sometimes, late at night, when he was alone with his thoughts, a small voice whispered, Do you really love her? Or do you just like the idea of her?
Are you getting married because you want to… or because it's the next box you're supposed to check?
He shook the thought off. No need to complicate things. Lilian was good for him. She was stable. She was kind. That was enough. It should be enough.
Still, there was something about Amara's words that wouldn't leave him.
"I'll make the dress, but making the story happy is left to you. You know I'm famous for making broken wedding dresses."
Who even says that to a groom?
He liked that. The honesty. The way she didn't force a smile or pretend to believe in fairy tales.
It made him feel seen—like someone had finally called out what he'd been quietly avoiding.
I don't know if I want this wedding to work out.
He hated admitting that, even to himself.
The wedding was in three weeks. The preparations were moving fast. Lilian was excited. His mother was thrilled. His father?
As long as the seating arrangement was perfect and the press coverage was flattering, he didn't care who Xavier married.
Xavier leaned his head against the car window, staring at the faint blur of people moving outside.
Why did I go to the shop alone?
Because Lilian made excuses.
Because somewhere, deep down, he wanted to face this part alone. Maybe he wanted someone to look him in the eye and tell him the truth.
Amara did that.
And it made him want to see her again.
Not because of the dress. Not because of the wedding.
Just to hear someone talk to him without filtering their words through his last name.
That, somehow, felt rare. Precious.
He smiled a sad one, Funny how something so small feels precious to him
And maybe, he told himself, maybe I'll stop by the shop again.
Just once more.
Just to check on the dress.
Yeah the dress...
Starting the car he planned on going to Lilian place to tell her he has started the wedding dress preparations.
Since she was so reluctant.
Maybe he can get her thoughts on the dress after all she was the one wearing it.
While he was driving his mind drifted back to Amara.
He smiled, realizing what he just did his smile dropped and he fell into thought.