005

The car pulled up in front of Velvet Vogue, the city’s premier fashion design house, owned by Nalina, a renowned Indian designer and an old acquaintance of Alaric’s.

Cressida’s face lit up with excitement as she gazed at the company, her long-held dream about becoming a reality. She’d always coveted a design from Velvet Vogue, but Linet had vetoed the idea for her first wedding, despite their financial means.

Easton took down the wheelchair from the trunk and positioned it beside the car, carefully assisting Alaric into it. After Alaric was settled, Easton grabbed Cedrissa’s dress, juggling it with the wheelchair as he prepared to push it forward. 

Just as he took a step, Cressida appeared at his side, a warm smile on her face, a gentle nudging as she edged Easton aside. “Let me help with this.” She said, her voice soft.

“We shouldn’t be repeating the same thing, should we? I told you not to babysit me,” Alaric said, his voice a harsh reminder. “Easton’s job is to take care of me. If you want to help, take the box from him.”

“Yes, you told me, but I never said I’d listen,” Cressida’s response was laced with a cool smile. “You’re my fiancé, and as long as I’m around, I’ll be the one helping you. It’s my duty.”

***

The door swung open, and Nalina looked up from her laptop, where she was sketching a design. She removed her glasses and leaned forward, her elbows resting on the desk as she clasped her hands together. A warm smile spread across her face. “Good day, Alaric. It’s been ages. How have you been?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Alaric’s response was laced with sarcasm. “As you can see, I’m stuck in this chair.”

Alaric’s gaze bore into Nalina’s, his voice laced with bitterness. “Isn’t that why you’ve been keeping your distance? Because I’m no longer useful to you?” He paused, his words dripping with resentment. “What can a disabled person possibly do for you, anyway?” 

Nalina’s expression softened, and she looked away, her eyes drifting from his intense stare. She had known Alaric since their college days, growing up accustomed to his sharp wit and confident demeanor. 

However, after the accident, she slowly distanced herself, unsure of how to navigate their changed dynamic. Now, faced with the familiar sting of his sarcasm, she struggled to find the right words, so she opted to change the subject.

“Where’s your bride and her dress? Let’s focus on the task at hand.” Nalina said, her tone crisp. 

“Focus on the task at hand?” He repeated, his voice laced with disbelief. He had expected Nalina’s guilt to be palpable, given their past, but instead, she seemed detached. Her nonchalance stung. “Is that all you’ve got to say?” 

Nalina’s smile was radiant as she shrugged. “Is there more you want me to say?” She asked, her tone innocent, but her eyes hinting at a deeper awareness. “You’re here for your bride’s dress, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am!” Alaric’s voice rose, pain and frustration seeping through his words as he met Nalina’s unrepentant gaze. He bit back the words that threatened to spill out, his jaw clenched in restraint. 

Nalina’s snicker was like a spark to tinder. “I knew it, Alaric. Everything was intentional,” she said, a sly smile playing on her lips. “I was surprised when I got your order. I thought you’d want nothing to do with me after everything that happened,” 

Her eyes glinted with amusement. “You gave me the wrong size, so you’d have an excuse to see me.” 

Alaric’s breathing was ragged, his teeth gritted. “Yes.” 

Nalina scoffed dismissively. “I knew it,” she uttered. Her gaze flicked to Cressida, a discreet smile on her face. “Don’t you think discussing our business in front of your fiancée is disrespectful to her?”

“No,” Cressida intervened, her tone firm. She’d suspected there was more to the story and had been content to observe, but Nalina’s comment drew her in. With a gentle smile, she met Nalina’s gaze.

“Discussing your past doesn’t disrespect me—it shows Alaric respects me enough to be honest, and I’m glad my dress brought you two together,”

She moved to Alaric’s side, her eyes locking onto his. “Sweetheart, you have my permission to say whatever’s on your mind,” she said softly, her voice a soothing balm. “I won’t judge. I’ll be your safe haven, your partner in every sense.”

Alaric’s mind was wrapped in the comforting blanket of Cressida’s words, leaving him momentarily speechless. 

Cressida’s gaze met Nalina’s, her voice taking on a gentle, pleading tone. “Even if you’d rather not discuss it, please, for my sake, spare him a few minutes,” she asked softly. “Please.”

Alaric exhaled heavily, his breath escaping through pursed lips. “I don’t think it’s necessary anymore.”

Cressida turned to him, surprise etched on her face. “Hum?” 

Alaric’s nod was decisive. “Yes, Cressida. Dwelling on our past won’t help—it’ll only reopen wounds…” 

Cressida’s lips parted to protest, but Alaric cut her off gently. “We’re here for you, so let’s focus on your dress,” His gaze met Nalina’s, and he added, "Every word should be about my bride’s dress. Nothing else.” 

Nalina nodded understandingly and turned to Cressida. “Where does it need adjustment?” 

“The waistline.” Cressida replied. 

“Okay, let’s head to the dressing room. I need to see how it fits you.” Nalina said, leading the way.