Black Card
This life… still feels unreal.
Ethan didn’t stop there. When they reached the counter, he didn’t step forward.
He didn’t take the card. Instead—he let her handle it.
“Use it,” he said simply from where he sat at the lounge, relaxed, composed, as if this was nothing.
As if this was normal. Belle froze.
The black card in her hand suddenly felt heavier than all the bags she carried combined.
Her fingers tightened around it as she approached the counter, her steps hesitant. A thin sheen of sweat formed on her forehead despite the cool air inside the boutique.