Chapter 3

When he saw the message light up his phone, he pulled his arm back from around me and sat up.

I didn't have to guess.

It was Frances.

"Glad you got home safe. Get some rest early. You caught a bit of rain today too, so take your medicine. Don't act like one of the boys and forget to look after yourself."

The voice message ended, and the room fell back into a dead silence.

He remembered to tell Frances to take her medicine. He couldn't remember that I, the one right beside him, had been caught in the same rain.

I didn't say anything, and somehow that unsettled Xavier.

"It's Frances. You know how it is—she lives alone, and I worry about her. She doesn't take care of herself."

I didn't react much.

"Mm."

Xavier ruffled my hair, taking it as proof that I just cared about him too much.

Early the next morning, Xavier packed the breakfast he'd made into a bag and hurried out the door.

An hour later, he came back with Frances.

"We're going to do a photo shoot, so I brought Frances along. She studied fashion design abroad. Maybe she can help you pick out something to wear."

Frances was still holding the leftover breakfast he'd made, the part he hadn't finished.

"Perfect timing, there's still some breakfast left. You eat it. She's got a big appetite, not like you—a little bit fills you up."

As he said it, Xavier tossed me the half sandwich left in Frances's hand.

I didn't eat it.

That afternoon, Xavier rolled down the car window and spoke to me where I stood at the curb.

"Frances gets carsick, so you sit in the back for now."

I said nothing. I wasn't upset.

I opened the back door and got in.

He'd probably forgotten. On our first trip together, I'd gotten so carsick I could barely stand it, and he'd run around for twenty minutes just to find me motion-sickness pills.

When the car speakers came on, Frances teased him easily.

"Oh, still using my playlist? All these years and you never get tired of it."

The corner of Xavier's mouth curved up.

"Habit."

By the time we reached the studio it was already afternoon. He bought three cups of brown sugar milk tea from next door.

When he held one out to me, I didn't take it.

"I'm allergic to brown sugar."

Only then did it dawn on Xavier.

"Sorry, Lauren, I forgot. Let me go buy you another one."

I shook my head.

"It's fine. I don't feel like it."

I wouldn't feel like it again, either.

Xavier frowned, as if I were the one being difficult.

He opened his mouth and didn't say anything.

When it came time to choose outfits, Xavier was on the other side while Frances followed me into the women's fitting area.

"I really can't tell if you're playing dumb or if you're actually dumb."

Frances's words were scornful, with a sneer under them.

"What are you trying to say."

I stopped walking and turned to look at her.

"You don't get it? Lauren, you don't actually think he's going to meet your parents in a few days because he wants to marry you, do you? You're just something he plays with to pass the time after I left."

I let the corner of my mouth lift and laughed lightly.

"Is that so? More than ten years, and you never even got to be something he plays with?"

My words turned Frances's face dark in an instant.

Frances grabbed a dress and pulled me out of the clothing section.

"Lauren, this one really is the best. It'll look amazing on you."

I was about to refuse when Xavier came over from behind.

"Listen to Frances. She's got a better eye than you."

But it wasn't until I'd changed into it that I understood.

The dress bared my scars plainly, and the curve where one cup sat empty—everything about it pointed straight at what I'd lost.

It looked absurd. Laughable.

When I stepped out of the fitting room, Frances let out a small snort of laughter, then quickly arranged her face into an apologetic look.

Seeing my cold expression, Xavier finally couldn't hold it in.

"Enough, drop the attitude. That's just your figure, it's not the dress's fault. Hurry up and shoot, before it gets crowded in here."

During the shoot, several of the shots caught that empty cup and the trace of my scars.

Xavier grew more and more impatient.

Then he said something that stirred the calm I'd held onto for so long.