Chapter 86 Chapter 86
Chapter 86
Celine left the office a bit later than usual.
Not super late, just enough to leave her worn out in that low-key way that hits after you’ve spent the whole day trying to get everything right.
The new job still didn’t feel completely real. The tasks were cleaner, less chaotic, but they asked for real concentration. When she finally logged off and slung her tote over her shoulder, her brain was packed.
Spreadsheets, follow-ups, little mental sticky notes. And mixed in with all of it, Ethan’s face kept popping up even though he hadn’t said a word to her all afternoon.
She walked out of the building, let out a long breath, and decided home could wait a little longer.
She wanted something nice for herself.
Nothing fancy. Just a small thing to wrap up the day properly.
The mall was close, so she headed there.
It wasn’t packed, but it wasn’t dead quiet either. Easy music drifted from somewhere above.
People drifted past with bags and phones, everyone doing their own thing. Celine liked spots like this. No one staring, no one expecting her to be anything particular.
She went into one of her usual stores and grabbed what she actually needed. Shampoo, a new toothbrush, a plain notebook with thick pages she couldn’t resist. Then she spotted the soft gray top she’d walked past for weeks.
The kind of basic thing that looked good on without trying too hard. She held it up, talked herself out of it for the hundredth time, then put it in her basket anyway.
“This one’s okay,” she said under her breath when she tapped her card at the register.
She came out of the store with both hands full, already picturing Ariana’s smirk when she saw yet another notebook she’d probably use for three days and then forget about.
She wasn’t really paying attention to the crowd.
Amelia wasn’t either.
They walked right into each other.
The bump was quick and solid. Both of them stumbled back a step.
Celine’s bags slipped. Lip balm rolled under a bench, the notebook skidded a few feet, the top landed near someone’s sneaker.
Amelia’s stuff spilled too. Her expensive-looking purse hit the tiles sideways, a small velvet box popping out and sliding.
“I’m so sorry,” Celine said right away. She dropped down to pick things up without even thinking. “I wasn’t watching—”
Amelia didn’t crouch. She stood straighter, lips pressed thin as she looked at the mess, then tilted her head like the whole floor had personally offended her.
“Watch where you’re going,” she said, voice clipped.
Celine froze for a second, still on one knee. The tone hit harder than the actual collision.
“I really didn’t mean to,” she said again, fingers closing around her notebook. “I’m sorry.”
Amelia gave a short, dry laugh. “You people always say sorry. And yet here we are.”
Celine looked up, eyebrows pulling together. “I said I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t see you.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Amelia’s eyes flicked over Celine’s outfit—simple blouse, comfortable flats, nothing flashy. “Broke women like you never do. Too busy daydreaming about your next little treat, I guess.”
Celine blinked, caught off guard. She stood up slowly, holding her notebook against her chest like a shield.
“I wasn’t daydreaming,” she said quietly. “It was an accident.”
“An accident,” Amelia repeated, mocking. “That’s convenient. You bump into someone, scatter their stuff, and it’s just an accident. Typical.”
A couple of people nearby slowed down, pretending to check their phones but clearly listening.
Celine felt warmth climb her cheeks, but she kept her voice even. “I’m picking my things up. I can help with yours too if you want.”
“Don’t touch anything of mine,” Amelia snapped. “I don’t need help from someone who can’t even walk straight.”
Celine stopped reaching. She straightened the rest of the way, fingers tight around her bag handles. “I’m trying to be nice here.”
“Nice?” Amelia’s laugh was sharp again. “You think saying sorry fixes it? You think that soft little voice makes you look innocent? Please. I see girls like you every day—cheap clothes, cheap bags, acting like you belong in places you can barely afford. Then you crash into people who actually have somewhere to be.”
Celine took a slow breath through her nose. She could feel eyes on them now, but she didn’t look away.
“I apologized twice,” she said, calm, almost gentle. “I didn’t mean to bump you. That’s all.”
Amelia stepped forward half a step, close enough that Celine could smell her perfume—something expensive and cold.
“You think you’re sweet because you keep your voice down? It’s pathetic. Standing there all wide-eyed and polite while you ruin someone’s day. Broken women like you always play the victim card. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, it was an accident.’ Spare me.”
Celine’s stomach twisted, but her face stayed soft. No yelling. No matching the meanness. Just quiet.
“I’m not playing anything,” she said. “I bumped into you. I said sorry. If that’s not enough, I don’t know what else to do.”
Amelia’s eyes narrowed. She looked Celine over again, slower this time, like she was cataloging every detail to use later.
“You should stick to discount stores,” she said. “Places where people don’t mind your clumsiness. Some of us have real lives.”
Celine swallowed. The words stung, but she didn’t let it show much. “This is a mall. Everyone’s allowed here.”
Amelia snorted. “Sure. Everyone’s allowed until they start causing problems.”
She finally bent down, snatching up her purse and the little box with quick, angry grabs. Her nails made sharp clicks on the floor.
Celine quietly gathered the rest of her own things—the lip balm had rolled farther than she thought—and stood holding everything close.
“I hope your day gets better,” she said, soft as before.
Amelia paused, half-straightened. “Don’t patronize me with your fake positivity. It’s embarrassing.”
Celine met her eyes. “It wasn’t fake. I meant it.”
Amelia stared for a beat longer. Something flashed across her face—annoyance, maybe confusion—then it was gone.
“Keep telling yourself that,” she muttered. She turned on her heel and walked off, the sound of her shoes loud against the tile.
Celine watched her go for a second, then let out a shaky breath.
People started moving normally again, like the moment had never happened.
She walked over to a bench by the doors and sat down, bags in her lap. Her hands weren’t quite steady.
“What just happened?” she whispered to herself.
She ran through it again—the rude tone, the way the woman had sized her up and decided she was nothing. The casual cruelty in calling her “broke” like it was a fact.
Celine shook her head. Not everyone was kind. She knew that. Some people carried meanness around like it was jewelry.
Still, the words stuck. They hurt more than she wanted to admit.
On the other side of the mall, Amelia slowed her pace.
She hadn’t expected the girl to stay so calm. Most people either snapped back or shrank away. This one just… stood there, soft-spoken, refusing to break.
It irritated her more than the actual bump.
She glanced over her shoulder once. Celine was sitting alone, looking small against the bench, bags piled around her feet.
Amelia’s jaw tightened.
She didn’t know the girl’s name.
Didn’t know why the whole thing stuck in her head like this.
But one thing was clear—she didn’t like her. Not one bit.
Celine stood up after a minute. She smoothed her blouse, adjusted the tote on her shoulder, and walked tow
ard the exit.
She didn’t know who the woman was.
Didn’t know why the encounter left her feeling so off-balance.
All she knew was that the day ended with an odd, unsettled quiet she couldn’t shake.