7

"What are you wearing?" Florence heard Tristan ask as soon as she walked in the living room . Her husband was dressed in a casual light blue shirt and over washed light blue jeans. He looked amazing as always. He looked different however, a good different.

His hair was not styled back like usual, instead it was messy and was falling over his forehead. He looked beautiful nonetheless if you avoid the scowl that was plastered on his face. He looked as if he was a completely different person though.

He looked at Florence from top to bottom with furrowed brows and a confused look on his face.

Florence looked down at her bottle green tight fitted dress and then looked at her husband who was still looking at her with a keen gaze.

" What?" She asked, sounding more annoyed than confused. Tristan sat straight and tilted his head to the side.

" Are we going to a charity event?" He asked, almost amused as he smiled innocently at his wife. Florence looked at her dress again.

Did she look dressed down?

She wore the most elegant dress she had at the moment , her hair was tied in a tight bun and she wore black high heels. She felt as elegant as she looked but maybe something was wrong because the jerk was still eyeing her weirdly.

" What?" She asked again and watched how Tristan sighed before raising from his seat and making his way towards Florence.

He had his hands in his pocket as he looked up and down , making Florence squirm under his gaze.

" You look like one of those villains in household dramas that are going to murder their husband's entire family. " He said casually.

" What's wrong with this dress?" Florence asked, feeling annoyed. What does he know about girls' fashion anyway? Florence's aim was to impress her in-laws. Though her relationship with her husband is not that good, she still wanted to be in good books with her in-laws. As far as she knew , her mother-in-law is not very fond of her and considering that Tristan's grandparents have no idea about their situation, Florence wanted to have them on her side. To have them on her side, she had to impress them First .

"Everything is wrong with this dress. " Tristan said as he once again gave her a once over. " From the hairstyle to the jewelry and the outfit is too outdated."

" Excuse me! It is the latest collection of-"

" It is outdated for my grandparents." Tristan Replied without waiting for a second. " It is clear as a sky that you are trying hard to seem like a good daughter-in-law and it is a major turn off." He said and turned around. He sat back on the sofa.

Florence looked down at her dress again and then at the digital clock, they would be coming home anytime soon.

" Just wear whatever makes you comfortable. As much as you love to lie, I prefer when you at least be real with your outfit." Tristan said and looked away from her.

" I don't lie-" her words were cut off again by her husband.

" They will be here soon. " He said as he looked back from the clock . "If I were you, I would be running to get changed." He said and Florence huffed because he was right. She should better hurry.

She made her way back towards the bedroom, tripping various times because her dress was not allowing to move much. On the other hand Tristan scoffed as he watched her run for her life.

Once in her bedroom, Florence searched for something she would normally wear at home. Truth to be told she would rather wear her long oversized and overused t-shirt rather than anything else. But she decided to wear light blue jeans and an off white oversized t-shirt. She didn't want to scare her in-laws off by showing herself in her homeless attire.

She let her hair down and gave herself an overview. She looked good, she admitted to herself. These clothes are much better than her elegant outfit she wore previously.

She made her way back to the living room and Tristan raised his head and looked at her before looking back at his cellphone. He didn't say anything about her outfit so that was a plus point.

" How did we met?" Tristan suddenly asked and Florence rolled her eyes. Apparently Tristan's grandparents thought that they were in love and so it was Tristan's idea to come up with a fake love story.

Florence first suggested that they met at college and Tristan reminded her of their eleven years age gap with a roll of his eyes.

" I was late for my college. " Florence said the line taught by Tristan himself to her yesterday.

" And?"

" I was walking. There was traffic and I decided to apply my lipstick by seeing my reflection in the car window. I was not aware that you were in the car and you fell in love with me. " Florence said.

" I rolled my window glass down and YOU fell in love with me." Tristan reminded her of the story that he had told her. He had his brows furrowed as if he was disgusted with her story.

" That seemed too unromantic. Usually it is a guy who should chase the girl." Florence said as he leaned back on her seat.

" But the case was different with you. You were the one who chased me and I fell in love with you after seeing how dedicated you were for my love." Tristan said and tilted his head to the side. He looked really very satisfied with his version of story and Florence was shocked at him.

" Has anybody told you that you are narcissistic?" Florence asked as she scoffed and looked at her with pure distaste. Tristan on the other hand seemed extremely fine.

"No one actually. I mean do have a face that gives me the whole right to be narcissistic. " He provided .

" I don't like your version of the story. Mine was better." Florence said.

" What's wrong in my version? I quite like it actually."

" It makes me look as if I was chasing you for your money." Florence said.

" And for my face." Tristan added.

" Yeah that too." Florence muttered. This story doesn't leave a good impact on her in-laws.

" But it's true anyway. " Tristan said as he smiled innocently. " You do chase money and a pretty face." He added and Florence wanted nothing more than to just punch him straight on his face.

Just when she opened her mouth to say something, she was cut-off by the ringing of the door.