CHAPTER 104

BOLD IS GOOD...

The soft hum of chatter and the gleam of polished marble floors wrapped around Abigail like a cocoon as she stepped into the luxury mall with Maya by her side. Tall glass ceilings allowed sunlight to spill down in golden shafts, making the gleaming storefronts even brighter. The air smelled faintly of perfume drifting from a boutique entrance, and soft jazz floated from hidden speakers above.

“Finally,” Maya said dramatically, tugging her arm. “I’ve been begging you for weeks to have a day like this. No Obetta, no scheming, no staring daggers across ballrooms. Just us, money to spend, and endless racks of clothes, your money actually.”she said with a playful smirk.

Abigail chuckled softly, her lips curving. “You make it sound like I never buy anything.”

“You don’t,” Maya shot back with mock severity. “You walk into boutiques, look at things like you’re studying them for an exam, and then you leave. Today, I’m putting my foot down. We’re going on a spree, Abby. A proper one.”

Abigail laughed at her friend’s insistence. There was something liberating about being here without Luke’s shadow, without the careful watchfulness of the estate. Just her and Maya, two women who had once shared giggles over cheap shoes in high school, now striding past mannequins draped in silk gowns worth more than their teenage rent combined.

Their first stop was a boutique tucked into the corner of the second floor. Inside, rows of dresses shimmered under golden lighting  gowns in jewel tones, blouses soft as clouds, and accessories displayed like museum treasures.

Maya dove in immediately, plucking out a short red dress with a daring neckline and thrusting it at Abigail. “This. You’re trying this on. Don’t argue.”

Abigail arched a brow. “It’s not even my style.”

“Exactly. That’s why.”

Abigail rolled her eyes but obeyed, slipping into the changing room. When she stepped out, Maya gasped theatrically, clapping her hands. “Oh, Abby. Luke would combust if he saw you in that.”

Heat crept into Abigail’s cheeks. The fabric hugged her in places she normally kept hidden, the red bright against her skin. She smoothed the hem nervously. “It feels too bold.”

Maya circled her like a stylist. “Bold is good. Bold says you know who you are.” Then her grin softened. “Besides, it suits you more than you think.”

They spent the next hour trying on everything from silk tops to tailored trousers. Abigail found herself laughing, spinning in front of mirrors, even letting Maya push her into trying on sequinned heels that sparkled ridiculously. For once, she wasn’t the wife of Luke Vandell navigating whispers in elegant halls. She was just Abigail, a woman having fun with her best friend.

Shopping bags began to fill their hands, designer names stamped across glossy paper. By the time they wandered into the jewelry section, Abigail felt lighter, freer. She paused at a glass case displaying delicate gold chains, her fingers hovering above the smooth surface.

“Do you like it?” Maya asked.

Abigail nodded faintly. “It’s… simple. Beautiful.”

“Then buy it,” Maya urged.

She did. And when the box was slipped into her bag, Abigail smiled at how easy it had felt to choose something just for herself.

Hours later, their spree had left them flushed with laughter, arms weighed down by bags. They exited the mall together, stepping into the bright afternoon sun. The parking lot shimmered with expensive cars lined neatly in rows, their driver waiting by the sleek black vehicle Abigail had sent.

Abigail shifted her bags, ready to hand them over when a voice called her name.

“Abigail.”

She froze.

The sound wasn’t loud, but it carried smooth, deep, and strangely commanding. She turned slowly, her heart stuttering as her eyes fell on him.

Oscar Dixon.

He stood a few feet away, leaning casually against a silver car that seemed as polished as the man himself. His athletic frame was accentuated by the tailored blazer he wore over a crisp shirt, the sandy brown of his hair catching the light, his hazel eyes fixed on her with unnerving steadiness.

For a moment, the world around her seemed to quiet.

“Oscar,” she breathed, her voice almost lost.

Maya straightened beside her, her eyes flicking between them with instant suspicion.

Oscar pushed off the car and approached, his stride confident but unhurried. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said smoothly. His gaze drifted briefly to the shopping bags in her hands, then back to her face. “But I’m glad I did.”

Abigail’s pulse quickened. She adjusted the strap of one bag, her voice steadying. “We were just… shopping.”

His lips curved slightly, not quite a smile, more like he knew something she didn’t. “So I see.” His eyes softened a little, almost teasing. “It suits you this side of you. Away from the ballrooms, away from the noise.”

Maya shifted, stepping slightly in front of Abigail. “And you are?”

“Oscar Dixon,” he said without hesitation, extending a hand. His tone was polite, but his gaze never left Abigail’s face.

Maya didn’t take his hand. She crossed her arms instead, raising a brow. “Right. The knight in shining armor who thinks he can waltz into other people’s lives.”

Oscar chuckled softly, lowering his hand without offense. “I don’t think that at all. But I also don’t stand by and watch when someone’s being mistreated.”

Abigail felt the weight of his words  the memory of the event when he’d stepped between her and Obetta. Her chest tightened, conflicted.

Maya’s eyes narrowed. “Well, thanks for your chivalry, but she doesn’t need saving.”

Abigail touched her friend’s arm lightly, trying to diffuse the tension. “Maya…” She turned back to Oscar. “Thank you. For what you did. But you didn’t have to.”

His gaze held hers, unwavering. “Maybe I didn’t. But I wanted to.”

Silence stretched for a moment, heavy and charged. Abigail shifted uncomfortably, acutely aware of the way he looked at her  not with the hungry arrogance of men like Obetta’s circle, but with something quieter, something that felt like recognition.

“Abigail,” Maya said sharply, tugging her arm. “We should go.”

Oscar inclined his head slightly. “Of course. I didn’t mean to intrude.” His voice softened as he added, “Take care of yourself.”

The words, simple as they were, clung to her as she turned away. She felt his eyes on her until the car door shut and the driver pulled them from the lot.

Inside, Maya exhaled loudly, setting her bags down with a thump. “Okay. No. Absolutely not.”

Abigail blinked, startled by her tone. “What?”

“That man,” Maya said firmly, pointing a finger. “He’s trouble. I don’t care how polished he looks or how perfectly he says your name like it’s poetry. Luke was right about him. I can feel it.”

Abigail’s heart fluttered uneasily. She pressed her hands against her lap, her mind replaying Oscar’s gaze, his words. “He… he didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Not yet,” Maya shot back. “But he will. Men like that don’t show up out of nowhere. They want something. And I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Abigail turned her head to the window, watching the city blur past. Her chest felt tight, tangled between Luke’s silence, Maya’s warnings, and Oscar’s steady eyes.

For the rest of the ride, neither of them spoke. Abigail clutched the small box with the gold chain she’d bought, as though grounding herself, but her mind was elsewhere.

Luke’s warning echoed in her memory. Maya’s voice rang in her ear. And still… so did Oscar’s.

“Take care of yourself.”

Why did it feel like more than just words?