Chapter 69 The Confrontation Outside
The air outside the boutique felt colder than it should have, sharp, almost metallic, as Deborah stepped out with the neatly wrapped gowns in hand. She hadn’t even realized how tightly she was gripping the paper bag until her fingers began to ache. Her chest was still tight, her pulse refusing to settle after the encounter inside. She could still hear Alaina’s voice in her ears.... soft, sugary, and far too confident.
Deborah took a slow breath, but it didn’t steady anything. She exhaled shakily, trying to bury the irritation clawing at the back of her ribs. The sounds of the city moved around her, a fading motorcycle, distant laughter, the steady hum of an air conditioner from the store next door. None of them reached her properly. Her head felt too full, too hot.
She took two steps toward the sidewalk. That was when she heard them.
The door opened again. Heavy footsteps followed, four distinct sets. Stable. Controlled. Familiar. Their presence moved like a shadow swallowing the light behind her.
“Deborah.”
She stiffened automatically. Caelum reached her first, cutting off her attempt to continue walking. His expression wasn’t casual, his eyes scanned her face like he was searching for cracks in a glass surface. “Why....” he said slowly, “do you look like you want to break something, huh what happened there, are you two fight? Did you hurt or did she hurt you?”
She forced a breath out through her nose. “I don’t.”
Caelum stared for two seconds too long. “You’re lying,” he said simply.
Lysander sauntered into her line of sight, his steps deliberately exaggerated. He stopped in front of her, leaned down slightly, squinted, then made a dramatic gasp. “Oh wow,” he declared, “she’s definitely imagining violence. I can see it in the eyes, it's too obvious.”
Deborah shot him a glare and shake her head. “You’re both impossible.”
“Mm-hm,” Lysander hummed. “And you’re deflecting, deborah.”
Knight approached more quietly, more carefully, but somehow with more intensity than the others combined. He didn’t speak at first, his gaze traveled over her posture, her shoulders, even the way her hand tightened around the bag. It felt like he was peeling back layers without touching her at all.
Lucio came last, but the moment he stepped forward, the air felt heavier. His calm was different, controlled, intentional. His eyes locked on her face, and he didn’t blink.
“What did she say?” Lucio asked, voice low and measured.
Deborah lifted her chin. “Nothing. We just talked about yesterday's event.”
Caelum snorted loudly. “Right. That’s why you’re walking like someone kicked your pride.”
Lysander nodded. “And your eye twitched. The Deborah Twitch does not lie.”
“I didn’t twitch,” she said sharply.
Knight tilted his head. “Yes you did.”
Deborah’s mouth fell open. “Why is everyone here obsessed with my breathing and eye movement?!”
“Because.....” Caelum said, stepping closer, “they tell the truth when you don’t and besides, lysander says it's too obvious.”
Deborah tried to turn away, but Lucio moved a fraction, not blocking, simply existing in her path in a way that made escape impossible.
“We’re not stupid,” he said. “Something upset you, debs.”
“It’s not important, and I'm not upset,” she muttered.
Lysander raised a brow. “We know it did upset you.”
Her jaw clenched. Lysander pointed again. “There! That jaw clench! The classic Deborah denial behavior.”
She huffed loudly. “I am not denying anything, Lys!”
“Now you’re denying denying,” Caelum added dryly.
Knight stepped closer, his voice barely above a murmur. “You’re breathing too fast.”
“I am not,” she snapped, but her voice wavered slightly. Lucio noticed. Of course he did.
“Deborah,” he said, tone thinning, “what... Did.... She.... Say.”
She squeezed the bag, knuckles whitening. “Nothing worth repeating.”
They all exchanged a look. The kind of look that said they knew that was the exact opposite of the truth.
Lysander leaned in, lowering his voice. “Did she insult you?”
“No.”
Knight’s gaze flickered. “Did she imply something?”
“No.”
Caelum stepped forward, expression flattening. “Did she… poke somewhere she shouldn’t?”
Deborah’s throat tightened.
She didn’t answer. She didn’t even move.
And in that moment, her silence was louder than anything she could have said.
Lucio’s eyes softened just slightly. “There it is.”
Deborah turned her face away sharply. “This is stupid. I don’t have to report my conversations to any of you.”
“No,” Lucio agreed quietly, “you don’t.”
His voice dropped lower, warmer. “But you also don’t have to pretend nothing’s wrong.”
Deborah felt heat crawl up the back of her neck. Her breathing stuttered without her permission. Her heart knocked once, hard, against her ribs.
Lysander stepped beside Lucio, not teasing now. “We’re not trying to annoy you,” he said, unusually gentle. “We just… know when something gets under your skin. And she clearly did.”
Caelum clicked his tongue. “Yeah. And we’re not letting you walk off acting like you’re fine when you look like you’re holding in a scream.”
Knight’s tone was soft, but firm. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Just don’t lie about being okay.”
Deborah stared at the pavement, some parts of her hair falling slightly forward as she tried to blink away the sting building in her chest. She hated how easily they read her. Hated how transparent she felt in front of them.
Her fingers trembled faintly against the paper bag.
The boys went silent, watching her, waiting, not with pressure, but with a suffocating kind of patience.
Then Lucio took one slow step toward her. Close enough that she had to look up.
Close enough that she couldn’t hide behind posture or sarcasm or forced smiles.
“Deborah…” he said softly, every syllable grounding her.
“You don’t have to pretend with us.”