NovelEnglishDid she really have such a kind heart? A salesgirl approached Sylvia. "Ms. Lloyd? This way, please." "Thanks." Sylvia set down her cup of coffee and stood up right away. She just wanted to get out of this suffocating room as quickly as possible.
She followed the salesgirl into a small changing room tucked behind the main boutique.
Through the heavy curtain, the girl pointed at the clothing rack inside, her tone indifferent. "Ms. Lloyd, take your pick." Sylvia flipped through the dresses. They were all in garish colors-neon greens, blinding pinks, fire-truck red. Every single dress was either backless or had a plunging neckline.
She could only assthe brand's weirdest party dresses had ended up in this corner.
Trying to keep her patience, she asked, "Do you have anything else?" The salesgirl rolled her eyes and looked away, pretending not to hear. Sylvia scoffed inwardly. Of course Bridget wouldn't let her off that easily.
She decided not to play along. "I'm not going to wear any of these. If you don't bringsomething else, I'll take these out to Tristan and see what he thinks of your 'expert' taste as a senior sales associate. Do you think he'll appreciate you trying to ruin his son and daughter-in-law's wedding?" The salesgirl's jaw tightened. "Just wait here!" She stormed out through the back door of the changing room.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtSylvia gripped the rack, dropped her gaze, and took a deep breath, fatigue washing over her.
Suddenly, the door behind her opened again. She thought the salesgirl was back, but when she looked up in the mirror, she met a pair of dark, intense eyes.
Rupert.
He watched her, his gaze unreadable. Sylvia quickly looked away and moved toward the curtain, hoping to leave. But he caught her around the waist, pulling her into his arms before she could even protest. His lips found hers in a desperate, hungry kiss.
Outside the curtain, Bridget was waiting in her wedding dress.
Sylvia's whole body tensed. She tried to shove him off, forcing herself to whisper, "Rupert, are you crazy?" "Maybe," he murmured in her ear, his voice deep and rough. "Sylvia..." She froze, waiting for him to say more.
But instead, he just stared at her for a heartbeat, then kissed her again-harder this time.
She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught her wrist, pressing it against the mirror.
Their hands left foggy prints on the bet glass as their bodies heated up the cramped space, the only sounds their ragged breaths Sylvia felt like she was being held too tightly, pressed so close she could barely breathe as if he wanted to pull her right into his chest.
Just then, Bridget's voice drifted in from outside.
"Sylvia, are you ready yet? Do you wantto help?" Sylvia shoved at Rupert, panic rising.
He finally let her go, lingering just long enough to brush his fingers over her wrist.
The day Bridget had lost the baby, Sylvia had fallen and scraped herself badly Even after all this ta faint Scar remained.
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"Does it still hurt?" he asked softly, his voice pitched low and rough, O M surprisingly gentle. Sylvia snatched her hand away. "None of your business." He pressed his lips into a thin line, wanting to say something, but stopping himself.
Outside, Bridget's footsteps grew louder.
"Sylvia, are you embarrassed to cout? Don't it worry, I won'tjudge you for what you wear. The closer her voice got, the more frantic Sylvia became. She pushed Rupert again.
"Go. Now." "Your dress is on the rack." He squeezed her hand once before slipping away.
Sylvia looked down and realized he'd left a small tube of scar cream in her palm.
When she glanced up again, the changing room was e ingready empty was as ifing one had been there at all. Except now, hanging across from her, was a simple white dress.
A moment later, Bridget yanked back the curtain, a big smile plastered on her face.
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