Chapter 110: Fashion Show Part 2

Soraya

I kept changing from dress to dress. It was from sparkly dresses to long, flowy dresses to ball gowns. Where the hell did he get all of this from? That was just a question roaming through my head.

That was when I stumbled on a simple but yet elegant red dress. It had a fascinator, and when I put it on, I looked so beautiful. I looked like trouble, but at the same time, I looked so elegant.

I stood in front of the mirror for minutes, just admiring how good I was looking. My skin looked extremely pale, which I really did not know why, but it made the dress pop in a way. I was trying to fix the fascinator when Evander stood behind me, and I saw his reflection from the mirror. He took the fascinator from my hand and helped me clip it on my hair.

“This is the one,” he whispered into my ears.

And from the moment I tried the dress on, I knew this was the dress for me.

“How do I look?” I asked in a low voice.

“With some red lipstick,” he said, “you would look like a killer.”

I smiled. “You meant that as a compliment.”

“I know, my love.”

Evander and I lay in the pile of all the clothes on the ground. The both of us lay in the middle and my head rested on his chest. We stayed like that for more than ten minutes.

“What are we going to do with the rest of the dresses? Do you like all of them?” he asked.

And the selfish part of me actually did, because all of these dresses weren’t just something that was thrifted. All of them were expensive and they were beautiful in their own way. And it was something I would like to have, but at the same time, they were a whole lot.

“You know what,” I said gently, “maybe we should donate them. There are a lot of people who would kill to have something this fancy and luxurious. And I can’t wear all of them even in thirty years to come.”

He laughed. “Can you stop exaggerating?”

“I’m not exaggerating, Evander. This is way too much for one person. And yes—minus Bianca.”

He sat up, just staring at me as I kept talking. Then he asked me a question I wasn’t sure where it came from.

“Bianca,” he said her name. “Do you remember a time where the both of you actually got along? Where you didn’t hate each other?”

I shook my head. “I cannot remember.”

But that was actually a lie. I did remember. Before my parents died, Bianca and I actually got along perfectly, and I loved my sister back then so much.

“That’s actually very sad,” he said. “I would give anything for my sister to be alive.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Of course. She would have loved you.”

He was smiling, just thinking about her. That was something I would never get to experience—thinking about my sister and smiling. Anytime I thought about Bianca, it was just hatred.

“You know I literally know everything about you, right?” I said after we stayed quiet for a long moment.

“Oh, really?” he said. “I know that.” He sounded confident.

“But I know you do not like to read.”

He smiled so wide it reached his eyes. “And what gives you that impression?”

“Evander, I have never seen you with a book. Ever. You haven’t recommended any good ones to me.”

“Oh,” I said. “So now it’s my fault?”

“Yes, of course. You are supposed to get your mate into reading. You’re supposed to rub off on me. It’s that simple. But you are the one always reading, always taking all the good books and never recommending any to me.”

The way he spoke, I could see the child in Evander. When I had been in his memories, Evander grew up way too fast. He never had a loving childhood. Neither did I, but mine was way better than his. At least my father never tortured me on a daily basis.

But the way he was smiling, I could see that young version of him, and I wish we could be stuck in a time loop in this particular moment where he was happy. Where he had nothing to worry about.

“Okay,” I said softly. “So if I recommend a book for you, would you read it?”

“Of course,” he said. “As long as it is not written by a witch and it doesn’t turn me into a half-wolf, half-dragon.”

I laughed. “Touché.”

“Evander, I want you to tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“Hmm,” he said, thinking for a while. “But I thought you said you knew everything about me.”

“Oh, come on. There are things you haven’t told me, and I would really appreciate it if you did. Remember—no secrets.”

“Fine,” he said. “I am amazing when it comes to baking.”

I burst out laughing.

“We both know that is a horrible lie. You don’t even know how to cook, talk less of baking.”

“Really?” he said, placing a hand dramatically on his chest. “You’re making me feel bad. Why are you doubting my cooking skills? Why?”

“I’m not MasterChef,” I said, “but you really do not know how to cook.”

We didn’t speak for a while. The silence filled the room, and I just listened to his heartbeat, feeling so calm. Right now, just being here with him, it felt like perfection. And I wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.

I sat up slowly, and he followed quickly, sitting up.

“Is something wrong?”

I smiled at him. “Why do you always think something is wrong?”

I cupped his cheek with one of my hands. He snuggled against my palm.

“I don’t always think something is wrong. I just—”

“I know,” I said gently, not letting him finish because I actually did know.

“Why exactly did you bring me here?” I asked.

“To come try on all the dresses I bought,” he smiled.

“I know that isn’t the real reason. Talk to me, Vanda.”

“Okay,” he said. “When we were coming back from the burial, you were a bit off. And I know the only thing that can actually get you out of that mood is a change of scenery, ice cream, and new dresses.”

“Damn, you really know me well, huh.”

“Of course I do,” he said.

“And that is how I know there is something weighing on your mind, and you don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t want to push you, but I don’t like seeing you worried. So if you do not mind, I would really like to help. Just talk to me.”

I thought about it for a moment. And what was the use of me hiding what Sarah’s brother had told me from him? Because if something happened to me, he would still be the one to protect me.

“Okay, you’re right,” I said. “Back at the burial, I actually wanted to say hi to Sarah’s mom, but her brother stopped me. And he accused me of what happened to his sister, and he told me he was coming for me.”

Immediately after I finished saying those words, I regretted it because all the playfulness and joy that filled the air had completely disappeared. He looked so angry, like he was barely keeping himself together.

“Let’s go,” he said as he stood up, offering me his hand.

“Where are we going?”

“Back to school,” he replied. “Where you’re safe. And I need to find this son of a bitch before he finds you.”