Chapter 9 - THE BLUE DRESSClaire returned to the boutique alone eighteen months later.
Jeans.
Old jacket.
No jewelry.
The new associate at the entrance smiled.
“May I help you?”
“I'd like to try that one.”
A blue dress.
First collection produced after the attribution overhaul.
The associate brought it.
No question about budget.
No subtle glance at Claire's shoes.
Claire entered fitting room four.
Same room.
Different carpet.
She dressed.
Stepped out.
The mirror remained.
For a second memory hit physically.
Vanessa's hand.
Floor.
Silence.
Then the associate said:
“The shoulder is sitting slightly high.”
Claire blinked.
Looked.
Correct.
“We can adjust it.”
Claire smiled.
“My grandmother would have said the same thing.”
Beside the mirror, a brass panel listed contributors.
Lead designer.
Pattern maker.
Sample sewer.
Textile developer.
Factory team.
Claire touched Ruth's name on another historical plaque nearby.
Then Ethan entered.
“You said you were coming alone.”
“I did come alone.”
“You are no longer alone.”
“That sounds more romantic than it is.”
He smiled.
Careful.
Then looked at the dress.
“Buying it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“The shoulder is wrong.”
“I'll alert the board.”
Claire stared.
He laughed.
“Pattern team.”
“Better.”
Small.
Normal.
That was what reconciliation looked like if it happened at all.
Not forgetting his lie.
Seeing whether behavior after it changed.
Claire eventually put her wedding ring back on.
Months later.
No ceremony.
Ethan noticed at breakfast.
Said nothing.
May you like
That was probably why she kept it on.
He was learning not to turn every emotional moment into something he owned.
