Memories - Shopping

The heavy velvet curtain of the fitting room pulled back with a soft rustle, and Emily stepped out onto the polished tile floor.

The reflection in the mirror showed a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Emily adjusted the lace of the garment, her expression unreadable as she checked the fit.

The saleswoman, maintaining a polite distance, stepped forward with a professional smile. "Does the size feel comfortable? Does everything fit as it should?"

"It does," Emily replied, looking at her silhouette. "The material is perfect. I love how it...displays things."

"It’s a very elegant choice," the saleswoman remarked. "Is this for a special occasion? Perhaps a getaway or a wedding anniversary?"

Emily smiled at the woman. "A special anniversary, yes.

"The saleswoman turned towards me, her expression softening. "How lovely. How long have you two been together?"

The question hung in the air. A sudden tension settled in my chest. I opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come. "We... it's..." I stammered, shifting uncomfortably. I didn't expect to explain so didn't know what to say, but Emily did.

She turned away from the mirror, her voice calm and steady as she spoke for him. "Oh, it's not our anniversary," she said. "I'm visiting a man I was with before we started dating."

The boutique went quiet. The saleswoman’s smile faltered, her eyes darting between us. She blinked, her composure momentarily shattered. "Oh... I... I see," she managed to whisper.

Emily seemed unaffected by the shift in the room. She turned her gaze to. "Do you like it?" she asked.

"It looks...it...it's very pretty, Emily," I replied, voice low.

"Do you think Evan will like it?" she asked me, turned to the saleswoman. "He always had a thing for nylons."

The name caused a visible flinch. I looked down at my shoes, my hands tightening. "I... I suppose... he likely will," I stammered.

Emily looked back at the saleswoman, who was now busy adjusting a nearby display, avoiding eye contact.

"It's been ten years since Evan and I first, well, you know," Emily continued, smoothing the fabric over her side. "He invited me for the weekend and I wanted something special."

The silence in the boutique felt heavy, almost suffocating. The saleswoman was suddenly very interested in a rack of silk robes a few feet away, her hands moving over the hangers with a nervous, frantic energy. She wouldn't look at either of us.

Emily turned back to her reflection in the triple-mirror, smoothing the front of the satin skirt with the palms of her hands. She adjusted one of the garter straps, checking the tension against her thigh, completely unfazed by the bomb she had just dropped in the middle of the room.

"I think the color suits me," she said, her voice entirely conversational as she looked at me through the glass. "What do you think, honey? Is it too bright, or just right?"

My throat felt completely dry. I swallowed hard, trying to force my voice to sound normal, but it came out tight and strained. "It's... it's perfect, Emily. It looks good."

"Just good?" She turned around to face me fully, placing her hands on her hips. The confidence radiating off her was dizzying. "Evan always preferred bold colors on me. He said pastels made me look washed out. I think this shade is exactly what he has in mind."

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, my hands jammed deep into my pockets so she wouldn't see them shaking. I could feel the saleswoman's ears burning from five feet away, desperate to be anywhere else but trapped in our games.

"If you like it, you should get it," I managed to say, offering a weak nod.

"Oh, I'm definitely getting it," Emily said, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. She looked over at the saleswoman, who practically jumped at the attention. "Will you take this for me? I'm going to change back into my clothes while he pays."

"Of... of course, ma'am," the woman stammered, stepping forward quickly to take the extra hangers Emily had left on the hook. She kept her eyes glued to the floor.

Emily gave me one last, lingering look before pulling the heavy velvet curtain shut between us. The sharp click of the rings sliding across the metal rod sounded like a starter pistol. Left alone in the main room, I stood there staring at the fabric, the reality of the upcoming weekend settling heavily onto my shoulders.

While Emily changed, while I paid, the saleswoman kept her eyes down. "She...she's an independent woman," I said.

"No need to explain," the saleswoman replied, "I understand."

Emily came back just as the saleswoman was finishing, handing me the bag. "You'll but it with the rest of the things when you pack for me?" she asked.

"Of course," I said.

"You're such a dove," she said, kissing my cheek.